Sweet  M> •/•.•»/  •'*  X<>'>ilit'/s  (me  Badge." 

—SHAKESPEARE. 


We    plead    the    cause   of   those    dumb 
mouths  that  have  no  speech. 


LIBRARY 

OF    TH1. 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 


OK 


Accession  No. 


//.  £.    .    Cla&s  No. 


The  Speechless. 

BY  ANNA  DRURY,  (England.) 

Ye  call  them  dumb,  and  deem  it  well, 
\    How  eYr  their  bursting  hearts  may  swell, 
They  have  no  voice  their  woes  to  tell, 
As  fabulists  have  dreamed. 
They  cannot  cry  "0  Lord  how  long 
Will  Thou,  the  patient  Judge  and  strong, 
Behold  Thy  creatures  suffer  wrong 

Of  these  Thy  blood  redeemed?" 

Yet  are  they  silent?  need  they  speech 
His  Holy  sympathies  to  reach. 
Who  by  their  lips  could  prophets  teach, 
And  for  their  sakes  would  spare ; 
When,  wrestling  with  His  own  decree, 
To  save  repentant  Ninevah. 
He  found  to  strengthen  mercy's  plea, 
So  "many  cattle"  there 

Have  they  no  language?  Angels  know 
Who  take  account  of  every  blow  : 
And  there  {ire  angel  hearts  below, 

On  whom  the  Eternal  Dove 
His  penticostal  gift  hath  poured, 
And  that  forgotten  speech  restored 
That  filled  the  garden  of  the  Lord 

<^    When  Nature's  voice  was  love 

Oh,  blest  are  they  the  creatures  bless/ 
And  yet  that  wealth  of  tenderness, 
In  look,  in  gesture,  in  carets, 

By  which  our  hearts  they  teach. 
Might  well  the  thoughtful  spirit  grieve, 
Believing — as  we  must  believe — 
How  little  they  from  man  receive  , 

To  whom  they  give  so  much. 

They  may  be  silent,  as  ye  say. 
But  woe  to  them  who,  day  by  day, 
Unthinking  for  what  boon  they  pray, 

Repeat  -'Thy  kingdom  come." 
Who,  when  before  the  Great  White  Throne, 
Shall  plead  that  mercy  may  be  shown, 
Find  awful  voices  $own  their  owii^_    / 

The  voices' of  the  dum*  ^^^~^L 


A  Place  in  Heaven. 


Behrynge,  the  pilgrim,  lifting  up  his  head, 
Saw  the  Death  Angel  standing  near  his  bed, 
And  heard  him  say  in  accents  calm  and  cold, 
"The  names  I  write  within  the  Book  of  Gold 
Are  names  of  those  whose  place  in  heaven  is 

won. 

To  gain  this  place  what  hast  thou  ever  done?" 
Behrynge  the  pilgrim  struck  upon  his  breast, 
"Alas  !  full  many  a  law  have  I  transgressed, 
Yet  at  God's  feet,  for  creatures  He  hath  made 
Both  mute  and  helpless,  all  my  life  I  laid, 
And  prayed  Him  daily  that  my  strength  might 

be 

Their  faithful  safeguard,  as  He  guarded  me. 
The  dumb  beast's  cause  I  plead  through  all  the 

land, 

And  stayed  the  torture  of  the  oppressor's  hand, 
With  righteous  wrath  I  awed  the  mind 
My  life,  my  all,  to  the  great  work  I  gave, 
Yet  know  I  not  if  deeds  like  these  can  save." 
The  angel  vanished.     When  at  heaven's  gate 
Behrynge  the  pilgrim  sadly  came  to  wait, 
Lo !  the  pearl  portals  flew  asunder  far. 
A  light  shone  round  him  like  a  glorious  star, 
And  a  voice  said,  "Thy  sins  are  all  forgiven, 
Love  for  the  helpless  won  thy  place  in  Heaven." 


The  Hydrophobia  Scare 


"In  the  name  of  Pasteur  there  has  been  a 
holocaust  of  dogs.  But  for  him  thousands  of 
dogs  now  lying  in  heaps  upon  the  market  gar 
dens  of  Europe  would  be  alive  and  happy. 

Those  who  have  been  spared  are  prisoners 
of  war,  caged  and  fettered  and  in  hourly  peril 
of  being  slaughtered  on  owner's  door-steps  or 
taken  to  the  dog's  home  for  happy  (?)  despatch. 

*  *  *  My  objection  to  (M.  Pasteur)  is 
that  in  the  interests  of  vivisection  his  establish 
ment  has  been  advertised  by  illegitimate  means. 
The  panic  would  have  died  out  long  ago,  but  it 
has  been  fomented  by  the  press  in  the  interests 
of  Pasteurism,  and  when  the  mad-dog  was  not 
available  for  sensational  treatment,  a  mad-dog 
has  been  invented.  One  thing  is  certain;  the 
present  epidemic  of  rabies  did  not  commence 
till  Pasteur  was  ready  for  it.  If  he  were  to 
morrow  to  abandon  his  experiments  in  this 
direction,  and  turn  his  attention  to,  say,  small 
pox  or  cholera,  we  should  hear  of  very  few 
cases  of  mad  dogs.  The  best  way  to  stamp  out 
hydrophobia  would  be  to  unmuzzle  all  the  dogs 
and  send  Pasteur  to  the  North  Pole. 

The  force  of  foolery  can  go  no  farther  than 
this.    A  muzzled  dog,  a  harmless  pet,  runs  out 
of  its  owner's  door  for  a  moment  and  is  instant 
ly  seized  and  beaten  to  death  by  aposse  of  police 
men,  under  the  command  of  an  inspector. 
^        Pasteur  has  much  to  answer  for.     It  is   be- 
^coming  every  day  more  and  more   patent  that 

mad  dog  panic  is  fostered  in  the  interests 
vivisection. 

Hundreds  of  cases  of  hydrophobia   are   de- 
gliberately  manufactured  in  order  to  keep   down 
the  opposition  to  the  cutting  up  of  live  animals. 
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•with  a  cow's  horn,  or  a  camel's  hoof,  or  a 
dog's  nostril;  that  He  iniijht  be  the  alleviation  of 
animal  suffering,  as  well  as  the  Redeemer  of 
man. 

Standing  then,  as  I  imagine  now  I  do,    in 
that  Bethlehem  night,with  an  infant  Christ  on  the 
one  side  and  the  speechless  creatures  of  God  on 
the  other,  I  cry,  look  out  h<nv  ijmi  nt /•//,•<•  tin-  >•<>"•<  I 
into  the  horse's  side.     Take  off  that  curbed  bit 
from  that  bleeding  mouth.     Remove  that  wi'ilc 
from  that  raw  back.     Shoot  not  for  fan  tJuit  bird 
that  is  too  small  for  fond.     Forget  not  to  put 
water  into  the  cage  of  that  canary.      Throw 
out  some  crumbs  to  those  birds  caught  too  far 
north  in  the  winter's  inclemency.    Arr>  stthatman 
ii-i,.,  Isiimkhtij  that  one  horse  draw  a  lon<\  //«/»•// 
enouf/hfor  three.     Rtixh  in  upon  that  sn-m-  >>-I«  r> 
l»>ij*  arc  t»rtnrimj  a  cat  or  tnnisti fimj  butt. nl'j 
and  iirasthoiyi-r.     Drive  not  off  that  old  robin, 
,    for  her  nest  is  a  mother's  cradle,  and  under  her 
wing  there  may  be  three  or  four  musicians  of 
the  sky  in  training.     In  your  families  and  in 
your  schools,  teach  the  coming  generation  more 
mercy  than  the  present  generation    has   ever 
shown,  and  in  this  marvelous  Bible  picture  of 
the  Nativity,  while  you  point  out   to  them  the 
angel,   show  them  also  the   camel,  and  while 
they  hear  the  celestial  chant,  let  them  also  hear 
the   cow's  moan.     No  more   did   Christ    show 
interest  in  the  botanical  world  when  he  said, 
"Consider  the  lilies,"  than  he  showed  for  the 
ornithological  when  he  said,  "Behold  the  fowls  of 
the  air, "   and    the    quadrupedal     world    w  hen 
He    allowed  himself  to  be  called  in  one  place  a 
lion  and  in  another  place  a   lamb.    Meanwhile 
may  the  Christ  of  the   Bethlehem    cattle-pen 
have  mercy  on  the  suffering  stock  yards,  that 
are  preparing    diseased   and  fevered  meat   for 
^ar  American  households. 


EVERY  solitary  kind  action  that  is  done  the 
whole  world  over  is  working  briskly  in  its  own 
sphere  to  restore  the  balance  between  right 
and  wrong. 


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BlglasjjJ5'§<S.8i3fi5SSJfe 


Philanthropy  Compels  Us. 

If  besides  our  poor  relations  rights,  and 
appeal -of  our  own  nobility,  we  need  another 
ground  on  "which  to  urge  humanity  to  animals. 
we  find  it  in  philanthropy,  the  love  of  man  him 
self;  for  as  the  circle  widens  to  admit  these 
humbler  members  of  the  Father's  house,  all  the 
human  members  also  will  rise  into  kinder  re 
gard.  Kindness  grows  by  exercise ;  callousness 
and  cruelty  also  grow  by  exercise.  The  boys 
who  train  themselves  by  stoning  dogs  and  scar 
ing  cats  and  mutilating  flies,  and  breaking  into 
the  houses  of  the  birds,  and  playing  field-pirate 
toward  the  snake  and  toad,  and  who,  later, 
patronize  the  dog-fight  and  the  rat-hunt  and  the 
pigeon  or  squirrel  match — they  graduate  into 
the  men  who  pay  two  creatures  like  themselves, 
to  stand  up  in  the  prize-ring  and  pound  God's 
image  out  of  one  another;  they  are  the  men 
who  hanker  for  the  blood-loving  newspaper,  the 
murder  gloamings  of  the  country,  the  gallows-re 
cords  and  all  diaries  of  lust  and  violence.  On  the 
other  hand,  every  effort  to  increase  humanity 
towards  dumb  creatures  blesses  not  only  them, 
but  speaking  creatures  themselves.  We  stand 
to  all  beings  in  the  gentler  attitude,  and  run 
with  quicker  hands  to  help,  after  trying  to  help 
the  lowest.  These  societies  to  protect  dumb 
animals  are  in  reality  protecting  every  prisoner 
in  his  cell,  every  wild  boy  in  the  reform  school, 
every  pauper  in  the  alms-house,  every  poor 
seamstress  in  her  garret,  every  orphan  in  the 
streets ;  yes,  and  every  prisoner  in  the  wars. 
If  ever  again  the  great  woe  comes  to  n« 

j ,  your  wounded  brother  or  son  will  be 

more  likely  to  come  back  to  you,  and  the  war 
itself  will  be  put  off  longer,  and  will  end  the 
sooner  because  in  the  time  of  peace  these 
societies  for  dumb  animals' protection  have  been 
active  in  the  land. — Rev.  W.  C.  Gannett,  in 
Humane  Appeal. 


"Cruelty  is  the  devil's  trade-mark,  and  kind 
ness  is  heaven's  trade-mark." 


Animal  Happiness. 


The  heart  is  hard  in  nature,  and  unlit 
For  human  fellowship,  as  being  void 
Of  sympathy  and  therefore  dead  alike 


To  love  and  friendship  both,  that  is  not  p 
With  sight  of  anini'ils  enjoying  life, 
Nor  feels  thr.ir  happiness  augment  his  own. 
The  bounding  fawn  that  darts  along   the    glade 
When  none   pursues,   through  mere   delight   of 

heart, 

And  spirits  buoyant    with  excess  of  glee; 
The  horse  as  wanton,  and  almost  as  fleet, 
That  skips  tlie  spacious  meadow  at  full  speed, 
Then  stops,  and  snorts,  and  throwing  high  his 

heels, 

Starts  to  the  voluntary  race  again  ; 
The  very  kino  that  gambol  at  high  noon, 
The  total  herd  receiving  first  f  rom  one 
That  leads  the  dance  a  summons  to  be  gay, 
Though  wild  their   strange   vageries,    and   un 
couth 

Their  efforts,  yet  resolved  with  one  consent 
To  give  such  act  and  utterance  as  they  may 
To  ecstasy  too  big  to  be  suppressed — 
These  and  a  thousand  images  of  bliss,' 
With  which  kind  Nature  graces  every  scene, 
When  cruel  man  defeats  not  her  design. 
Impart  to  the  benevolent,  who  wish 
All  that  are  capable  of  pleasure  pleased, 
A  far  superior  happiness  to  theirs, 
The  comfort  of  a  reasonable  joy. 

(Cowpcr.} 

A  Parable. 

Now  just  within  the  gates  of  Paradise, 
A  green  field  lies,  'mid  groves 

And  streams.     In  this 
The  shades  of  horses  worn  in  service  here 
Do  graze  in  peace,  and  drink  the   waters  clear 

In  state  of  equine  bli>s. 
As  once  St.  Peter  barred  a  spirit's  way — 

(Conscience-accused  of  many  kinds  of  sin 

Out  spake  a  stage-horse  phantom, "This  man,  \^-> 

Walked,  rather  than  increase  my  earthly  woe!" 

Then  cried  the  Saint,  "Come  in  !" 

— Judith  Spencer,  in  Life. 


\ 

' 


Dumb. 


(Sir  Arthur  Helps  :)     I  can  hardly  express  to 
you  how  much  I  feel  there  is  to  be  thought  of, 
arising  from  the  use  of  the  word  "dumb"  as 
applied  to  animals,    "Dumb  Animals." — What 
an  immense  exhortation  that  is  to  pity.     It  isj 
a   remarkable    thing    that    the    word    "dumb" 
should  have  been  so  largely  applied  to  animals, 
for  in  reality  there  are  very  few  dumb  animals. 
But,  doubtless,  the  word  is  often  used  to  con 
vey  a  larger  idea    than    that    of    dumbness, 
namely,  the  want  of  power  in  animals  to  convey 
by  sound  to  mankind  what  they  feel,  or  perhaps 
I  should  rather  say  the  want  in  power  of  man  | 
to  understand    the    meaning    of    the    various 
sounds  uttered  by  animals,  but  as  regards  those 
animals  which  are  mostly  dumb,  such  as  the 
horse,  which  except  on  rare  occasions  or  in 
extreme  suffering,  makes  no  sound  at  all,  but 
only    expresses    pain    by    certain    movements 
indicating  it.     How  tender  we  ought  to  be  of 
them,  and  how  observant  of  these  movements, 
considering  their  dumbness.     The  human  baby 
guides  and  governs  us  by  its  cries.     In  fact,  it 
will  nearly  rule  a  household  1%  these  cries,  and 
woe  would  betide  it  if  it  had  not  this  power  of 
making  its  afflictions  known.     It  is  a  sad  thing 
to  reflect  upon,  that  the  animal  which  has  most 
to  endure  from  man,  is  the  one  which  has  the 
least  power  of  protesting  by  noise  against  any 

of  his  evil  treatments.  ^\n    Unpardonable   Offense. 

Kev.  Dr.  Irvine,  in  one  of  his  eloquent  ser 
mons,  says  :  "To  neglect  the  poor,  speechless 
beast,  that  cannot  appeal  in  your  tongue  to  the 
commiseration  of  a  passer  by,  is  simply  unpard 
onable,  and  the  man  who  is  guilty  of  such  neg 
lect  is  worse  than  a  brute.  The  arrant  infidelity 
of  Balaam,  and  his  sordid  love  of  money,  are 
secondary  crimes  compared  with  his  brutai 
abuse  of  the  ass  which  he  rode ;  and  the  Lord 
wrought  amiracleto  secure  a  loud  remonstrance. 
We  have  but  one  instance  in  the  whole  Bible  of 
a  dumb  animal  speaking,  and  the  miracle  was 
wrought  to  j3»ndeinn  the  sin  of  cruelty  to 
.  animals.". 


Vivisection  Useless  to  Hankind 


; 


Vivisection  is  essentially  and  unavoidably 
cruel  in  itself.  In  order  to  obtain  accurate  re 
sults  the  animals  must  be  healthy,  ^strong,  and 
in  full  possession  of  their  senses  and  intelligence. 
The  adininistratisn  of  an;e*thetics  of  any  nature 
vitiates  the  outcome  of  the  ex])eriinent  in  any 
instance  and  destroys  its  utility  in  the  majority 
of  cases.  To  stupify  an  animal  partially,  to 
wait  until  that  effect  has  passed  oil',  and  then  to 
mutilate  it,  enables  the  operator  to  say  that  an 
aesthesia  was  employed  and  this  course  is  pur 
sued  largely  for  the  sake  of  effect,  for  medical 
literature  falls  frequently  into  the  hands  of  the 
laity  either  in  the  shape  of  original  reports  or 
extracts  culled  from  them  and  republished  in 
magazines  or  newspapers.  Indeed,  vivisectors 
themselves  abet  the  distribution  of  such  reading 
matter  in  order  to  advertise  their  profound 
wisdom  as  investigators,  and  to  impress  the 
public  with  the  idea  of  their  importance  as 
teachers,  and  therefore  as  being  in  consequence 
more  skilful  than  the  ordinary  physicians,  of 
whom  the  public  know  nothing  through  this 
method  of  advertising.  *  *  *  * 

Vivisection  is  useless  to  mankind.  No 
animal  parellels  man  in  anatomical  structure, 
in  physiological  action,  nor  in  mode  or  object 
of  life.  The  most  rabid  experimentalist  wil1 
not  admit  that  he  has  the  brain  of  an  ape  in  his 
cranial  cavity,  the  lungs  of  a  dog  in  his  thorax, 
or  the  skin  of  an  ass  beneath  his  clothing, 
although  he  might  as  well  possess  them  after 
he  becomes  wedded  to  his  work,  for  all  the 
worth  he  has  as  a  practical  physician  to  the  sick 
and  suffering.  lie  argues  from  false  premises, 
his  deductions  are  wrong,  their  application  to 
the  treatment  of  disease  is  illogical  in  conse 
quence.  Man  is  neither  a  brute  or  an  evolution- 
from  one,  although  he  sometimes  degrades 
himself  below  the  level  of  the  brute  by  his 
disregard  of  the  written  and  unwritten  laws  of 
God  and  man. 

\\'illiam  7?.  D.  Hlnrkwood,  M.  Z>.) 
Philadelphia,  Pennsylvania. 


THE    GENIUS    OF   PITY  STAYING 
THE  VIVISECTOR'S    HAND 

(After  the  recent  symbolic  painting,  by  Gabriel  Max,  Germany) 

["The.  Genius  of  Pity  stands  besides  a  Physiol 
ogist,  holding  in  her  hand  a  pair  of  scales.  In 
one  scale  is  a  human  brain,  surrounded  with  lau 
rel*;  m  another,  a  glowing  heart.  The  scale 
containing  the  heart,  far  outweighs  the  scale  con 
taining  the  brain.  The  right  arm  of  the  Genius 
is  thrown  round  a  bound  and  bleeding  dog."] 

Behold  the  heavier  scale,  wherein  Man's  heart 
0         elhiS  blo°<l-enlaurelled  brain, 


, 

TLv    i     h    T  C>  y°n  pityi"S  Genius  8t»»ds 
To  stay  the  hand  deep-skilled  in  craft  of  Pain  » 

E  en  could  ye  point-men  of  remorseless  soul  ' 
To  essened  pangs  among  the  human  kind 
Mill  might  we  question  of  the  final  gain 
From  hearts  grown  ruthless  as  the  wintry  wind 
But  when   from  all  your  myriad  victims  slain, 
By  torments  direr  than  the  mind  may  know 
Ye  cannot  point  to  one  exalted  truth 
To  set  against  whole  hecatombs  of  woe 
Men   n  whose  breast  one  spark  of  pity  glows 

b    " 


To  shieM         >  vour  yant    and, 

From  ?          nn  1  fcai.thf  ul>  but  defenceless  friends 
om  miscalled  Science,  and  her  wolfish  band  ! 

(Elliott  Preston) 


The  Horse 


• 


H.  W.  Beeclier :  Society  owes  to  the  horse 
a  depth  of  gratitude  a  thousand  times  greater 
than  it  does  to  thousands  of  men  who  abuse 
him.  He  has  ministered  to  progress ;  has  made 
social  intercourse  possible  when  otherwise  it 
would  have  been  slow  and  occasional,  or  alto 
gether  impossible;  he  has  virtually  extended 
the  strength  of  man,  augmented  his  speed, 
doubled  his  time,  decreased  his  burdens,  and 
becoming  his  slave,  has  relieved  him  from 
drudgery  and  made  him  free.  For  love's  sake, 
for  the  sake  of  social  life,  for  eminent  moral 
reasons,  the  horse  deserves  to  be  bred,  trained 
and  cared  for  with  scrupulous  care.  The  teach 
ing  of  men  how  to  do  it  has  been  left  too  long 
to  men  who  look  upon  the  horse  as  an  instru 
ment  of  gambling  gains,  or  of  mere  physical 
pleasure 


••Would'st  thou   draw  near  the  nature   of 
the  Gods? 

Draw  iK'Jir    them,  then,  in   Ix-ini;    merciful. 
•Sweet  mercy  is  nobility's  true  bad-c." 

(Titus  Andronicun.} 


FOR    PITY'S   SAKE 


,f te  fa^eatey  W 


Let  us  take  to  our  hearts   a   lesson— no 
lesson  can  braver  be — 

From  the  ways  of  the  tapestry  weavers  on 
the  other  side  of  the  sea. 

Above  their  heads  the  pattern  hangs    they 
study  it  with  care, 

The  while  their  fingers  deftly  work,  their 
eyes  are  fastened  there. 

They  tell  this  curious  thing,  besides,  of 
the  patient  plodding  weaver, 

He  works  on  the  wrong  side  evermore 
but  works  for  the  right  Side  ever. 

It  is  only  when  the  weaving  stops  aivd  the 
web  is  loosed  and  turned, 

That  he  sees  his  real  handiwork—that  his 
marvelous  skill  is  learned. 

Ah  !  the  sight  of  its  delicate  beauty,  how 
it  pays  him  for  all  his  cost  \ 


No  rarer,  daintier  work  than  his,  was  ever 
done  by  the  frost. 

'        Then  the  master  bringetK  him  golden  hire, 

and  giveth  him  praise  as  well,  # 

'^m** 


! 

£**&• 


Kindness  of  the  Ancient 
Greeks. 


Perhaps  of  all  ancient  nations  the  Greeks 
were  the  most  merciful  to  animals :  in  fact 
with  them  the  laws  of  justice  and  mercy  were 
observed  as  a  part  of  their  mythological  religion. 
People  endowed  with  such  sacred  attributes 
could  not  be  otherwise  than  great,  and  conse 
quently  we  read  of  their  wonderful  deeds  of 
valor,  and  view  the  remains  of  their  temples, 
their  cities,  and  the  grandeur  of  their  architect 
ure  with  less  surprise  than  would  be  excited 
did  we  not  know  the  history  of  their  nation. 
An  eloquent  writer  has  observed  : 

"Death  and  torture  formed  no  portion  of 
the  daily  pastimes  of  the  Greeks ;  on  the  con 
trary,  they  were  sternly  opposed  to  cruelty; 
and  one  of  the  three  laws  or  rather  precepts  of 
Triptolemus  was  :  'Hurt  not  animals.'  A  strik 
ing  instance  of  their  abhorrence  of  cruelty  is 
related  by  Phocius,  who  expatiates  with  delight 
on  the  illustration  it  otters  of  wisdom  tempered 
with  an  admirable  spirit  of  humanity.  The 
Areopagita>s  of  Athens  were  famous  for  the 
justice  of  their  decisions.  One  day  they  were 
assembled  on  a  mountain,  with  no  other  roof 
but  the  canopy  of  heaven.  A  sparrow,  pursued 
by  a  hawk,  fled  into  the  midst  of  them  for 
cj  refuge ;  it  took  shelter  in  the  bosom  of  one  of 
x.  them,  a  man  naturally  of  a  harsh  and  repulsive 
disposition,  who,  taking  hold  of  the  little 
•^  trembler,  threw  it  from  him  with  such  violence 
^.  that  it  was  killed  on  the  spot.  The  whole 
Jx  assembly  was  tilled  with  indignation  at  the 
cruelty  of  the  deed;  the  author  of  it  was 
arraigned  as  an  alien  to  that  sentiment  of  mercy 
so  necessary  to  the  administration  of  justice, 
and  by  the  unanimous  suffrages  of  his  colleagues 
was  degraded  from  the  senatorial  dignity  which 
he  had  so  much  disgraced.  It  was  not  only  a 
part  of  the  education  of  the  Greeks,  but,  as  has 
been  before  remarked,  it  was  one  of  viie  tenets 
of  their  religion  to  inculcate  a  proper  obser 
vance  of  the  rights  of  animals.  Although  the 
lives  of  their  poets  were  ideal,  their  teachings 
were  never  false  in  principle,  and  their  states 
men  were  always  true  to  the  cause  of  justice. 
From  this  brief  outline  of  the  Greek  char 
acter  we  can  readily  understand  how  that  nation 
•will  ever  be  known  as  the  grandest  of  ancient 
times." 


"I  hav'e  not  lived  in  vain — 

If  I  but  stop  one  tear,  or  heal  a  wrong 
Or  lift  a  fainting  robin  into  his  nest  again, 

I  have  not  lived  in  vain." 


rVERSlTY 
CAL77 


Around  the  Lowly  Manger, 

Lo,  on  the  first  bright  Christinas  morn 
Around  the  lowly  manger. 
The  soft-eyed  beasts  with  angels  ga/e 
I'pon  the  heavenly  stranger, 

We  cannot  know  how  far  and  deep 
Their  mystic  instinct  reaeheth 
Nor  what  mute  sense  of  Right  and  Love 
These  poor  dumb  children  teacheth, 

But  Love  that  can  redeem  and  save 
For  evil  good  returning  — 
('1an  take  all  creatures  to  Its  heart  : 
The  humblest  never  spurning. 

Honor  the  voice  that  dares  to  speak, 
(The  cruel  jest  unheeding)  — 
For  those  who  cannot  speak  themselves 
One  word  of  humble  pleading. 


TO 


MY  HORSE,  MY  DOG,  AND 


MY  CAT. 

Her  Most  Gracious  Majesty  Queen  Victoria, 
Patron  of  the  Royal  Society  for  the  Prevention 
of  Cruelty  to  Animals,  made  this  memorable 
and  beautiful  speech,  to  the  Society,  on  her 
Jubilee  Festival : 

"It  gives  me  great  pleasure  to  receive  your- 
loyal  and  dutiful  address  of  congratulation  on 
the  completion  of  the  Fiftieth  year  of  my  reign. 

"Amongst  other  marks  of  the  spread  of 
enlightenment  amongst  my  subjects,  I  notice  in 
particular,  with  real  pleasure,  the  growth  of 
more  humane  feelings  towards  the  lower 
animals;  no  civilization  is  c<»nplcte  which  docs 
not  include  the  d/ann  <tn<l  (Ifft'iircJcss  of  (lo<Tx 
creatures  within  the  sphere  of  charity  and 
mercy. 

"The  labours  of  your  Society  have  done 
much  to  promote  this  in<>ml  progress;  and  for 
the  sake  alike  of  human  nature  and  of  the 
happiness  of  the  animal  creation  by  which  we 
are  surrounded,  I  trust  that  you  will  persevere 
in  your  noble  aims  in  which  you  will  continue 
to  have  my  warm  and  entire  sympathy." 


A  Sermon  in  Stone. 


In  an  inscription  on  an  Egyptian  memorial 
stone  discovered  recently  at  Mount  Barkal, 
there  is  evidence  that  acts  of  cruelty  in  high 
places  by  educated  men  were  severely  punished 
in  the  days  of  the  twenty-fifth  dynasty  in  the 
land  of  the  Pharaohs.  Dr.  Brugsch  thus  trans 
lates  the  passage  to  which  we  refer : 

"When  his  majesty  visited  the  stables  and 
the  studs  of  foals,  he  observed  that  they  had 
let  them  starve.  He  said  'I  swear,  as  surely  as 
the  youthful  Sun-god  lia  loves  me,  as  surely  as 
I  breathe  in  life,  it  is  a  viler  thing  to  my  heart 
to  let  the  horses  starve  than  all  the  other  faults 
that  thou  hast  committed.  That  thou  hast  laid 
thy  heart  bare  through  this,  evidence  is  fur 
nished  me  of  thy  habitual  A'iews.  Hast  thou 
forgotten  that  the  shadow  of  God  rests  upon 
me?  The  proof  thereof  shall  not  be  wanting  to 
Him  on  my  part.  Would  that  another  had  done 
such  a  thing  to  me,  an  ignorant  man,  not  a 
haughty  one,  as  he  is.  I  was  born  out  of  my 
mother's  wromb,  and  created  out  of  the  egg  of  a 
divine  essence.  I  was  begotten  by  a  God — by 
his  name ;  I  will  not  forget  Him  in  what  He  has 
commanded  me  to  do."  Then  he  ordered  his 
(Nimrod's)  possessions  to  be  assigned  to  the 
treasury,  and  his  granaries  to  the  property  of 
the  government.  Amen  of  Apet." 

(PHARAOH  WOULD  HAVE  MADE  SHORT  WORK 

OF  THE  VlVISKCTOKS.) 

— From  "Our  Animal  Friends,"  New  York. 


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P  d 
o  o 

o  ^  ^  r  ? 

Inarticulate  voices, 
Patient  sighs,  'nej 
From  lone  places  wl 
Plaintive  moans  a 
Soft  eyes,  seeking  o 
Can  we  turn  away  v 
That  unuttered 

Innocent  of  wrong, 
Lays  on  them  a  h< 
Sharing  all  the  mist 
Man  has  wrought 
Touch  all  hearts,  O 
Till  they  burn  with 
To  remove  the  i 

c  "* 

•r-(  to 

H 

gs 

1? 

oi  O 

^  .d 
|> 

c^ 

small  ; 
Not  one  wrong  elud 
Not  one  humblest 
None  can  serve  Him 
His  dumb  creatures' 
For  He  loveth  51 

"Open    thy    mouth    for    the     dumb' 
(Proverbs  31—8). 

"The  charm   of  a  man  is  his  kindness1 
(Bible). 


FOR    PITY'S   SAKE 

/"Are  dumb  animals  immortal?  Do  you 
believe  in  a  future  life  for  the  lower  orders  of 
creation  ?  Do  you  expect  to  meet  your  good 
old  horse  '  Safety  '  in  heaven  ?  " 

These  questions  were  hurriedly  asked  by  a 
young  "  theologue,"  who,  surprised  at  his  own 
audacity,  was  yet  so  much  in  earnest  that  it  was 
clear  that  he  regarded  the  subject  as  worthy  to 
be  considered  by  the  wisest  heads  in  the  land. 

The  questions  were  addressed  to  a  Professor 
of  Theology,  whose  name  is  known  and  revered 
in  two  hemispheres. 

Although  the  young  man's  tone  was  slightly 
aggressive,  it  was  not  uncomplimentary.  His 
manner  implied  that  he  expected  an  immediate 
and  satisfactory  answer  to  any  question  he 
might  propound  ;  whether  it  pertained  to  time  or 
eternity, —  to  life,  death,  or  immortality, —  to 
anything  in  the  heavens  above,  the  earth  be 
neath,  or  the  waters  under  the  earth. 

I  shall  never  forget  the  impressive  air  of  the 
grand  old  man,  as  turning  his  keen  eye  upon 
the  questioner,  he  slowly  and  solemnly  said, 


8  FOR  PITY'S  SAKE. 

"  Are  dumb  animals  immortal  ?  Young  man  ! 
I  don't  know  !  But  if  you  have  one  of  God's 
dumb  creatures  dependent  on  you  for  food  and 
care,  I  advise  you,  so  to  treat  it  in  this  world, 
that  you  will  not  be  ashamed  to  look  it  in  the 
face  if  you  chance  to  meet  it  in  the  next." 

The  Professor  was  the  centre  of  a  little 
group  of  men  and  women  sitting  in  the  twilight 
on  the  veranda  of  a  country  inn.  There  were 
guests  who  were  staying  late  to  behold  the 
glory  of  the  autumn  foliage;  young  men  who 
were  studying  the  great  religious  truths  in  the 
renowned  Theological  Seminary  across  the 
way ;  and  still  younger  students  of  the  far 
famed  Academy  on  the  slope  of  the  "  Hill."  I 
was  seated  on  the  other  side  of  the  veranda 
where  I  could  easily  hear  the  conversation  with 
out  feeling  that  I  was  an  eaves-dropper.  All 
eyes  were  fixed  upon  the  Professor  as  he 
spoke,  and  eager  faces  showed  the  interest  felt 
in  hearing  his  views  on  the  subject,  but  beyond 
giving  this  bit  of  sensible  advice,  the  wise  man 
said  not  a  word.  For  a  moment  there  was  a 
silence  almost  painful.  It  was  broken,  however, 
by  the  arrival  of  a  man  evidently  well  known  to 
most  of  the  party,  who  drove  up  in  a  little  open 
wagon,  alighted,  and  joined  the  group. 

"  What  do  you  think,  Mr.  Gates  ? "  said  one, 


FOR  PITY'S  SAKE.  9 

"  Do  you  believe  that  dumb  animals  have 
souls  ? " 

"  Souls  ?  Bless  you  !  "  replied  Mr.  Gates, 
"  I  have  seen  in  my  life  many  a  man  who  had  a 
smaller  soul  than  my  Abdallah,  here." 

The  horse,  a  beautiful  bright  bay,  on  hearing 
his  name,  turned  and  walked  slowly  towards 
the  house  as  if  he  had  a  right  to  follow  his 
master  wherever  he  went.  Mr.  Gates  stepped 
down,  met  him  half  way,  took  him  gently  by 
the  bridle  and  cheerily  said, 

"  You  want  to  come  up  on  the  piazza  with 
white  folks  —  don't  you  Abdallah?"  Then 
with  a  loving  pat  on  his  sleek  neck  led  him 
quietly  back  to  the  post,  and  continued,  "This 
horse  is  such  a  social,  companionable  fellow 
that  I  really  pity  him  because  he  can't  speak." 

"  If  animals  had  that  faculty,"  rejoined  the 
Professor  with  a  merry  twinkle  in  his  eye, 
4t  many  a  man  would  get  his  deserts  as  did 
Balaam  of  old.  Do  you  know  that  the  Bible 
mentions  only  this  one  instance  of  a  dumb 
animal  speaking  ?  And  that  this  miracle  was 
performed  that  the  lowliest  of  creatures  might 
rebuke  her  brutal  master  for  cruelly  beating 
her?" 

"  Yes,"  said  Mr.  Gates,  "and  I  should  like  to 
see  a  few  more  miracles  wrought  on  that  same 


io  FOR  PITY'S  SAKE. 

line.  If  any  sin  calls  for  a  miracle,  it  is  the 
sin  of  cruelty  to  the  defenceless.  But,  begging 
your  pardon,  Professor,  you  are  not  quite  up-to- 
date  in  your  estimate  of  the  ass.  I  have  just 
read  a  very  interesting  magazine  article,  in 
which  the  writer  claims  that  the  ass  has  dis 
tinctly  more  character  and  intelligence  than 
the  horse  ;  that  his  <  stubbornness  '  is  simply 
sticking  to  his  own  ideas  because  he  believes 
in  them,  and  in  his  ability  to  carry  them  out. 
'  High  and  mighty,'  seems  to  apply  to  an 
animal  of  that  description  rather  than  lowly." 

"  I  do  not  question  the  intelligence  of  the 
beast  when  I  call  it  lowly  "  replied  the  Profes 
sor.  "  Certainly,  the  ass  of  Holy  Writ  showed 
no  lack  of  wisdom.  What  appeals  to  me  most 
strongly  in  the  character  of  the  ass  is  its 
patience  in  long-suffering.  There  is  a  sad  con 
trast  between  the  life  of  the  wild  ass  of  earliest 
records,  a  synonym  of  freedom,  and  that  of  the 
abject  burden  bearer  of  later  times.  The  creat 
ure  has  been  so  roughly  used  by  civilization 
that  I  have  a  peculiar  sympathy  for  it." 

"  The  treatment  of  domestic  animals  to-day 
does  little  credit  to  our  boasted  civilization," 
said  Mr.  Gates.  "  As  I  look  at  it,  civilized 
man  might  get  some  points  well  worth  the  get 
ting,  from  the  old  heathen  religions.  Founded 


FOR  PITY'S  SAKE.  n 

on  the  belief  that  all  life  is  divine,  they  did  not 
forget  the  humblest  of  God's  creatures  in  their 
decrees.  The  sacred  books  of  the  Parsees  lay 
down  laws  for  the  protection  of  beasts  that  put 
our  weak  statutes  to  shame.  Buddha  said  '  Thy 
future  birth  will  be  unhappy  if  thou  doest  cruel 
things.'  The  belief  in  transmigration  of  souls 
through  the  bodies  of  animals  no  doubt  has 
done  much  to  prevent  their  abuse.  I  have 
always  looked  upon  that  belief  as  a  direct  dis 
pensation  of  Divine  Providence  for  the  protec 
tion  of  animals.  As  someone  says,  '  Where  is 
the  man  who  would  strike  his  dog  a  cruel  blow 
if  he  believed  that  some  long  lost  friend  was 
looking  at  him  through  the  creature's  pathetic 
eyes  ? '  When  I  see  a  brute  of  a  man  banging 
and  jerking  a  horse  for  doing  what  the  man 
only  is  to  blame  for,  I  confess  that  I  feel  very 
tenderly  towards  a  faith  that  promises  pain  for 
him,  of  the  same  kind  that  he  so  mercilessly 
inflicts  ;  even  though  its  conception  of  punish 
ment  is  colored  by  barbarism." 

"  I  know,"  said  the  Professor  thoughtfully, 
"  that  Lecky  says  in  his  '  European  Morals ' 
'The  Mohammedans  and  the  Brahmins  have 
considerably  surpassed  the  Christians  in  the  in 
culcation  of  humanity  on  a  large  scale,'  but  a 
late  writer  who  has  lived  long  in  the  East,  shows 


12  FOR  PITY'S  SAKE. 

the  dark  side  of  the  transmigration  cult  when 
he  tells  us  that  a  horse  with  a  broken  leg  is  left 
where  it  falls  for  the  crows  to  pick  out  its 
eyes  ;  —  that  no  man  dares  to  put  an  end  to  its 
miseries  for  the  fear  that  it  may  be  the  soul  of 
one  of  his  kin  that  gives  life  to  the  beast.  So 
you  see,  Mr.  Gates,  that  the  results  of  a  belief 
in  transmigration  are  not  always  to  the  animal's 
advantage." 

"True,  no  doubt,"  replied  Mr.  Gates,  "still  I 
believe  that  its  general  tendency  is  on  the  side 
of  humanity.  Dumb  animals  have  a  hard  time 
of  it  whether  they  fall  into  the  hands  of  Pagan 
or  Christian.  It  constantly  surprises  me  that 
all  these  centuries  of  Christianity  have  not 
brought  about  a  more  humane  treatment  of  the 
brute  creation.  If  thinking  people  would  take 
more  pains  to  show  sympathy  for  the  woes  of 
dumb  creatures,  and  more  interest  in  the  move 
ments  for  their  benefit,  no  end  of  good  would 
come  of  it  ;  and  not  to  the  animals  alone, 
for  we  all  know  that  the  cultivation  of  kind  and 
tender  feelings  in  the  heart  of  man  means  a 
refining  influence  on  society. 

If  I  were  a  member  of  the  committee  to  ar 
range  the  international  Sunday  School  lessons, 
I  would  propose  to  have  one  Sunday  in  each 
month  devoted  to  the  study  of  animal  life  and 


FOR  PITY'S  SAKE.  13 

history ;  to  teaching  the  true  relations  of  the 
lower  orders  of  creation  to  man,  and  the  Chris 
tian  duty  of  kindly  treating  all  God's  speech 
less  creatures.  Think  how  interesting  the 
subject,  how  broad  its  compass,  what  a  knowl 
edge  and  love  of  nature  a  wise  handling  of  it 
would  develop.  There  is  no  lack  of  Bible  texts 
for  leaders,  and  no  need  of  straying  from  the 
principles  that  underlie  the  Sermon  on  the 
Mount. 

The  children  read  that  Christ  was  born  in  a 
manger.  Tell  them,  as  Dr.  Talmage  said  in 
a  sermon  on  the  Nativity,  that  He  was  born  in 
a  stable  ;  that  the  infant  Savior  lived  the  first 
days  of  his  life  with  the  dogs,  the  asses,  the 
camels,  the  cows  and  the  oxen  all  about  Him  ; 
that  He  came  to  alleviate  suffering,  as  well  as 
to  bring  peace  and  good-will  to  men  ;  and  the 
dumb  beasts  that  were  crowded  into  that  barn, 
with  all  the  animals  they  represent,  have  a 
share  in  the  hope  and  joy  of  His  coming.  Tell 
them  that  the  risen  Christ  to-day  knows  how 
these  helpless  creatures  are  abused  by  man 
kind. 

I  wish  this  plan  could  be  tried.  The  earlier 
children  learn  to  respect  the  feelings  and  rights 
of  dumb  animals,  the  sooner  the  millennium 
will  begin." 


14  FOR  PITY'S  SAKE. 

"  It  is  a  simple  Christian  duty  "  said  the  Pro 
fessor,  "  to  develope  in  children  a  spirit  of 
kindness  towards  all  God's  creatures,  not  only 
in  Sunday  School,  but  in  the  public  schools  and 
in  all  organizations  for  training  the  young.  I 
agree  with  you,  that  there  is  an  unaccountable 
.apathy  in  regard  to  this  subject  among  good 
people.  Perhaps  they  have  such  trust  in  the 
humane  societies  that  they  tacitly  leave  this 
matter  to  the  Society  for  the  Prevention  of 
Cruelty,  as  its  own  special  province." 

"  Our  Society  has  done,  and  is  doing  a 
glorious  work,"  Mr.  Gates  replied  ;  "  but  as 
some  one  has  put  it,  *  It  is  efficient  but  not  suf 
ficient,'  O  !  if  all  good  men  and  women  every 
where  would  only  do  what  they  can  to  uphold 
and  assist  it.  When  churches,  schools,  Young 
Men's  and  Young  Women's  Christian  Associa 
tions,  Epworth  Leagues,  Christian  Endeavorers, 
and  women's  clubs,  all  own  it  as  part  of  their 
mission  to  preach  and  to  teach  this  wide  world 
over  the  gospel  of  kindness  to  dumb,  helpless 
creatures,  a  new  era  of  civilization  will  begin. 
No  man  has  a  right  to  call  himself  a  Christian 
who  does  not  give  Christian  care  to  the  dumb 
animals  that  are  dependent  upon  him.  You'll 
find  it  hard  to  believe  a  little  story  I'm  going 
to  tell  you  but  I  know  it  to  be  a  fact,  though 


FOR  PITY'S  SAKE.  15 

I  am  glad  -to  say  that  it  is  a  very  unusual  case. 

One  hot  Sunday  morning  in  July,  a  minister 
of  the  Gospel,  who  shall  be  nameless  as  he  is 
heartless,  got  a  team  from  a  livery  stable  and 
drove  out  four  or  five  miles  from  home  to 
preach  in  a  neighboring  town.  He  tied  the 
horse  in  the  meeting-house  shed  and  left  him 
there.  He  preached  in  the  morning  —  went 
home  wifh  a  parishioner  to  dinner  —  conducted 
services  in  the  afternoon  —  accepted  the  invita 
tion  of  another  friend  to  supper  and  not  until 
after  the  evening  service  did  he  drive  home. 
The  horse  stood  in  harness  all  that  live-long, 
hot,  summer  day  without  a  morsel  of  food  or  a 
drop  of  water.  Very  likely  the  poor  beast  was 
thankful  that  he  was  not  tied  out  in  the  burn 
ing  sun.  The  owner  of  the  horse  said  that 
the  creature  was  ready  to  drop,  when  driven 
into  the  stable.  He  made  inquiry  and  found 
out  the  shameful  truth." 

"  Do  tell  us  that  man's  name,"  cried  one. 

"  It  is  too  inhuman  to  believe  !"  exclaimed 
another. 

"He  ought  to  have  been  arrested!"  said  a 
third. 

"  You'll  sit  under  his  preaching  some  day 
perhaps,  so  I'll  not  spoil  the  good  it  may  do 
you  by  telling  his  name,"  continued  Mr.  Gates  ; 


K^ 

OK    THR 

UNIVERS 


16  FOR  PITY'S  SAKE. 

"  but  if  I  ever  go  into  a  church  and  find  him  in 
the  pulpit,  something  will  call  me  outside  at 
once." 

"  You  haven't  told  us  yet,  Mr.  Gates,"  said 
the  theologue,  "what  you  think  about  a  future 
life  for  the  lower  animals." 

"  As  to  the  question  of  immortality,"  was  the 
reply,  "  I  am  by  no  means  ready  to  declare  my 
belief  in  it,  but  I  consider  it  a  subject  not 
beneath  the  dignity  of  man  to  study  and  investi 
gate  as  far  as  it  may  be  done.  There  are  still 
more  things  in  heaven  and  earth  than  are 
dreampt  of  in  our  philosophy. 

If  not  an  atom  of  matter  in  the  physical 
world  is  lost,  why  should  the  spirit  that  vivifies 
it  vanish  from  the  universe,  even  though  it  is 
only  the  soul  of  a  dog  ? 

Is  man  so  well  acquainted  with  the  nature 
and  laws  of  the  vital  force — is  his  own  place  in 
the  scale  of  spirits  so  high,  that  he  dares  assert 
that  inferior  beings  closely  connected  with  him 
in  this  life  will  have  no  future  for  development 
or  compensation  ? 

Do  not  the  lower  animals  have  many  of  the 
same  faculties  that  man  possesses,  although  in 
a  different  degree  ?  May  not  many  of  the 
arguments  used  to  prove  man's  immortality, 


FOR  PITY'S  SAKE.  17 

also  tend  to  prove  the  same  for  beings  lower  in 
the  scale  of  life  ? 

One  who  believes  in  a  law  of  compensation 
must  think  that  somehow,  somewhere,  the  help 
less  sufferers  that  have  no  comfort  or  joy  in 
this  world,  will  yet  have  reason  to  feel  that  life 
is  worth  living. 

I  remember  that  Henry  Ward  Beecher  once 
said, — '  Why  !  if  horses  and  dogs  have  not  souls 
to  be  saved,  what,  in  Heaven's  name,  will  be 
come  of  their  masters  ?  For  fidelity,  devotion, 
for  love,  many  a  two-legged  animal  is  below 
the  dog  and  the  horse.  Happy  would  it  be 
for  thousands  of  people  if  they  could  stand  at 
last  before  the  judgment  seat  of  Christ  and  say, 
'I  have  loved  as  truly  and  I  have  lived  as 
decently  as  my  dog,'  and  yet  we  call  them 
'  only  brutes.' 

Dr.  Talmage  said,  <  I  should  not  wonder  if 
the  horse,  so  banged  and  bruised  and  beaten 
and  outraged  on  earth,  should  have  some  other 
place  where  his  wrongs  shall  be  righted.'  He 
does  not  assert  it,  but  says  that  he  should  not 
be  surprised  if, «  after  all,  St.  John's  descriptions 
of  the  horses  in  Heaven  turned  out  to  be  not 
altogether  figurative.'  I  wish  Dr.  Talmage's 
grand  and  ringing  words  in  defense  of  the 
horse  could  be  heard  around  the  world. 


"Kind  hearts  are  more  than  coronets." 

18         "The  great  duty  of  life  is  not  to  give  pain." 

Animals  figure  so  largely  in  the  visions  and 
dreams  of  prophets  and  apostles,  no  wonder 
one  is  tempted  to  think  that  the  Bible  descrip 
tions  may  be  literal  after  all.  Horses  play  a 
most  important  part  in  the  grand  pageants  of 
the  Apocalypse. 

Imagine,  if  you  can,  what  this  world  would  be 
without  a  horse  to  drive,  a  dog  to  run  after 
you,  or  a  handsome,  lazy  cat  to  pose  before  the 
fire.  I,  for  one,  think  it  would  be  a  mighty 
dull  place  ;  and  one  is  forced  to  think  that  the 
next  world  might  be  a  trifle  dull  without  them 
too.  When  I  read  '  Beyond  the  Gates,'  I  was 
right  glad  to  meet  that  fine  dog  on  the  door 
step  of  the  home  in  heaven.  "The  heaven  of 
'  Gates  Ajar '  was  really  the  first  heaven  that 
ever  gave  me  much  satisfaction." 

Mr.  Gates,  who  had  several  times  paused 
with  a  glance  at  the  Professor,  now  laughingly 
said,  "  But  I  didn't  come  over  here  to  read  the 
service,  preach  the  sermon,  and  sing  all  the 
hymns,  I  think  it  is  about  time  for  me  to  be 
dismissed  by  the  congregation." 

Here,  many  voices  chimed  in  with  "Oh 
no," — "  Don't  stop," — "  Go  on,  go  on," — "  We 
want  to  hear  every  word  you  will  say  and  more 
too." 

"  Do  you  think  it  a  good  plan  to  clip   horses 


FOR  PITY'S  SAKE.  19 

in  winter  ?"  asked  a  young  lady  who  had  not  g 

spoken  before.  o  ? 

"  Well  !  Miss  Kate,"  replied  Mr.   Gates  with  -a  5 

a  significant  smile,   "I  know   some  most  excel-  £  § 

lent  people  who  drive  clipped  horses.     In  fact  *  |j 

I  have  to  agree  to  disagree  with  my  best  friend  g*  £ 

on  that  question.      But,  for  myself,  when   on  a  |  £ 

frosty  morning  I    see  milady  wrapped   in   furs  ^  -a 

from  her  bonnet  to  her  boots,   getting  into  her  »  S- 

carriage  where  fur  robes  wait  to   cover  her  ,—  £ 

milord  in  seal  cap  and  gloves  with  his  fur-lined 
ulster  buttoned  to  the  chin  ,  —  the  coachman  % 

enveloped   in  fur   cape   and   rug,  —  while    the  ^ 

horses  stand  shivering  at.  the  curb,  deprived  of 
the  only  covering  nature  has  given  them  for 
protection  against  the  cold ,  I  cannot  help 
thinking  there  is  a  screw  loose  somewhere. 

If  people  who  will  persist  in  clipping  their 
horses  would  leave  the  legs  undipped  below 
the  knee,  they  would  save  themselves  much 
trouble  and  cause  less  suffering  to  the  animals 
The  fetlock  evidently  serves  a  purpose  designed 
for  it  by  the  Creator.  Man  shears  it  off  when 
cold  weather  sets  in  ;  then  spends  the  rest  of 
the  season  doctoring  the  horse  for  mud-fever 
and  scratches.  There  may  be  some  sense 
in  cutting  the  hair  off  in  the  spring  when 
horses  are  shedding  the  winter  coat  ;  but 


20  FOR  PITY'S  SAKE. 

I  call  it  downright  cruelty  to  clip  in  winter, 
horses  that  are  used  for  ordinary  driving 
and  standing  about.  If  any  benefit  comes 
from  it,  the  groom  gets  it.  It  is  a  labor- 
saving  invention  for  him.  You  will  find 
everywhere  *that  grooms  and  professional  clip 
pers  are  the  strongest  advocates  in  favor  of  the 
practice.  It  is  plain  enough  to  be  seen  that 
they  have  an  eye  to  their  own  profit." 

This  silenced  Miss  Kate,  who  asked  no 
more  questions ;  but  two  Academy  students 
who  had  been  interested  listeners  kept  the  ball 
in  motion. 

"  What  do  you  think  of  docking  ?  "  asked  one 
of  them. 

"  Don't  ask  me  Harry,  what  I  think  of  dock 
ing,"  protested  Mr.  Gates.  "  It  is  an  outrage 
that  is  a  disgrace  to  civilization.  It  is  a 
fashion  —  a  fad,  that  will  pass  by  in  time,  and 
all  its  followers  who  are  not  utterly  heartless 
will  yet  feel  ashamed  of  having  taken  part  in 
such  abuse  of  a  noble  animal.  The  butterflies 
of  fashion  are  in  a  great  measure  accountable 
for  this  unmerciful  treatment  of  the  horse,  and 
a  heavy  sin  lies  at  their  door." 

Here  the  rich  voice  of  the  Professor  inter 
rupted  the  speaker,  and  every  familiar  word 
had  fresh  significance  as  it  fell  from  his  lips. 


FOR  PITY'S 


"  '  A  righteous  man  regardeth  the  life  of  his 
beast,  but  the  tender  mercies  of  the  wicked  are 
cruel.' 

'  Consider  the  ravens,  God  feedeth  them.' 

'He  causeth  the  grass  to  grow  for  the  cattle.' 

'  He  sendeth  the  springs  into  the  valleys  ; 
they  give  drink  to  every  beast  of  the  field.' 

'  A  sparrow  shall  not  fall  to  the  ground  with 
out  your  Father.' 

'  Be  ye  therefore  merciful  as  your  Father 
also  is  merciful.' 

'  A  merciful  man  is  merciful  to  his  beast.' 

'  Blessed  are  the  merciful  for  they  shall  ob 
tain  mercy.' 

'He  shall  have  judgment  without  mercy  who 
has  shown  no  mercy.'  ' 

Then  without  further  'comment  the  Professor 
rose  from  his  seat,  bade  all  a  cordial  good-night 
and  walked  away. 

"  The  Professor  leaves  us  to  infer,"  remarked 
one,  "  that  people  who  are  so  merciless  as  to 
have  their  horses'  tails  docked,  will  be  likely  to 
get  cold  comfort  when  they*  beg  for  mercy 
themselves.  It  is  a  damnable  thing  to  do,  any 
way." 

Harry  turned  to  the  theologue  whose  ques 
tions  had  begun  the  conversation.  "The 
Professor  is  too  sharp  for  you.  You  didn't 


22  FOR  PITY'S  SAKE. 

get  much  out  of  him,  did  you,   Mr.   Leigh  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  returned  Mr.  Leigh,  "I  think  I  did  ; 
although  he  didn't  answer  the  questions  I 
asked  him.  He  is  sharp  enough  to  keep  on 
the  safe  side.  He  can  quote  more  scripture 
than  any  man  I  ever  knew,  and  it  always  comes 
in  'pat.'  I  believe  he  has  every  word  "of  it 
from  cover  to  cover  at  his  tongue's  end.  It  is 
very  convenient  for  him  when  he  doesn't  mean 
to  commit  himself." 

Just  then,  a  lazy  old  Concord  coach,  one  of 
the  last  of  its  race,  came  lumbering  up  to  the 
door  of  the  inn  ;  a  merry  party  of  young  people 
on  the  top  and  a  few  gray-haired  veterans  in 
side.  They  knew  that  a  late  supper  awaited 
them,  so  they  simply  bowed  their  greetings  to 
friends  on  the  veranda  and  hurried  in. 

The  driver,  unique  from  his  broad-brimmed 
hat  to  his  broad-toed  shoes,  his  square  shoulders 
built  for  "  Saratogas  "  to  rest  upon,  his  sturdy 
frame  to  walk  erect  under  their  weight,  was  a 
survival  of  a  class  that  with  the  old  stage  coach 
is  fast  passing  fcaway.  One  of  the  passengers 
tarried  outside,  grip-sack  in  hand,  talking  with 
him.  - 

A  handsome  Newfoundland  dog  that  had 
been  lying  quietly  on  the  cool  grass  in  a  shel 
tered  corner,  watched  this  interview  for  a 


FOR  PITY'S  SAKE.  23 

minute,  then  got  up  and  without  as  much  as 
"  by  your  leave,"  took  the  grip-sack  from  the 
owner's  hand,  carried,  it  into  the  office  and 
laid  it  carefully  down. 

"  By  Jove,"  exclaimed  the  stranger,  "  Is  that 
the    kind  of   a    porter    you  keep  here  ?     Who 


15  cruel." 


"It  is  a  groat  -sift  of  the  gods  to  be  born 
humane,  \\\\\\  a  hatred  for  cruelty  and  in 
justice."  (George  Elliott.} 


owns    that    dog  ?      Can    I    buy   him    for   fifty 
dollars  ?  " 

"  Not  much,"  answered  the  driver,  with  a 
suspicion  of  disdain  in  his  tone.  "  His  master 
would  as  quick  think  of  sellin'  his  gran'-mother 
if  he  had  one." 


24  FOR  PITY'S  SAKE. 

The  great  dog  understood  that  he  had  met 
with  approval  and  with  a  satisfied  wag  of  his 
bushy  tail  went  back  to  his  cool  corner  and 
threw  himself  down. 

"  That  dog  is  a  wonder,"  said  Mr.  Leigh,  "  I 
have  watched  him  many  times  when  I  knew  he 
was  trying  to  reason  out  a  thing,  and  somehow, 
he  always  got  there.  I  suppose  you  will  say 
it  is  instinct  ;  but  one  may  read  pages  of  learned 
words  on  the  subject,  and  still  find  it  just  as 
hard  to  draw  the  line  between  the  instinct  of 
an  elephant,  and  the  reason  of  the  human 
animal  that  lives  with  him  in  the  jungle.  The 
old  theories  that  brutes  are  merely  soulless 
machines ;  that  their  habits  are  fixed  for  all 
time,  have  been  exploded  by  evolution, —  which 
finds  no  impassable  gulf  between  the  mental 
processes  of  man  and  those  of  the  lower 
animals.  What  next,  but  continued  develop 
ment  and  endless  life  for  all  ? 

I  have  somewhere  read  that  a  trained  ele 
phant,  when  laying  a  stone  wall,  will  now  and 
then  stand  back  and  take  a  look  at  it  as  a 
human  builder  would ;  and  if  a  stone  isn't 
exactly  plumb,  he  will  take  it  out  and  try  it 
over  and  over  again  until  it  suits  him.  Sir 
Emerson  Tennent  tells  wonderful  tales  of  the 
trained  elephants  in  Ceylon.  When  riding  one 


FOR  PITY'S  SAKE.  25 

day  in  a  narrow  path  through  the  forest,  he  met 
an  elephant  with  the  trunk  of  a  tree  upon  his 
head.  His  horse  was  terrified  and  refused  to 
pass,  although  the  elephant  turned  out  as  far  as 
the  law  required.  The  huge  creature  seeing  into 
the  situation,  stopped,  took  the  log  from  his 
head  and  laid  it  carefully  down  beside  the  path. 
Then,  backing  his  ponderous  body  far  into  the 
bushes,  hid  himself  from  view  until  the  fright 
ened  horse  passed  by.  He  then,  taking  up  his 
burden  went  on  about  his  own  business  as  if 
nothing  unusual  had  happened.  That  showed 
thought,  judgment,  and  the  ability  to  do  the 
right  thing  in  the  emergency.  How  far  is 
such  intelligence  accountable  ?  Does  the  life 
endowed  with  it  survive  the  grave,  or  does  it 
end  with  the  dust  ?  We  know  but  mighty 
little  about  it.  Mr.  Whittier  in  his  'Questions 
of  Life' asks  : 

'  Do  bird  and  blossom  feel,  like  me, 
Life's  many  folded  mystery,  — 
The  wonder  which  it  is  to  bt? 
Or  stand  I  severed  and  distinct 
From  Nature's  chain  of  life  unlinked  ? ' ' 

"  Better  give  it  up,  Mr.  Leigh,  what's  the 
use  ? "  said  a  moon-faced  man  who  looked  as  if 
he  had  never  lost  sleep  in  trying  to  solve  the 
problems  of  the  universe.  "  You'll  only  get 


UNIVERSI: 


-26  FOR  PITY'S  SAKE. 

staggered  as  Mr.  Emerson  did  when  he  stood 
before  the  Sphinx." 

"  How  was  that  ? "  Mr.  Leigh  asked. 

"  Oh  !  they  gazed  and  gazed  at  each  other  for 
a  long  time  in  silence.  Then  the  Sphinx  said  — 
'  You're  another.' 

That  settled  it.  Mr.  Emerson  turned  and 
walked  away  without  a  word." 

"  What  was  that  you  read  to  us  one  evening, 
Miss  Kate  ?  "  asked  Harry.  "  It  began, '  Some 
where  along  the  line  of  intelligence  the  line  of 
immortality  crosses. ": 

"  Great  Scott !  Harry,"  shouted  his  chum 
jumping  up  quickly.  "  Who  knows  but  you 
and  I  are  on  the  wrong  side  of  that  line  now  ? 
Come  on  !  it  is  long  past  study  hour."  And 
away  the  boys  ran  down  street  as  if  on  a  wager. 

Abdallah,  who  had  been  quietly  standing  at 
the  post  all  this  time  now  gave  a  low  whinny. 
His  master  understood,  and  said  in  reply, 
"  Abdallah  thinks  it  is  time  for  me  to  go  home, 
and  he  is  right." 

"  We  are  not  quite  done  with  you  yet  ;  I  see 
that  you  drive  without  blinders,"  said  a  gentle 
man  who  evidently  wanted  to  hear  more  of  Mr. 
Gates'  horse-talk/ 

"  Yes  !  horses'  eyes  were  made  for  seeing.  I 
know  no  reason  why  they  should  be  covered 


FOR  PITY'S  SAKE.  27 

any  more  than  our  own.  Blinders  are  simply  a 
relic  of  a  barbarous  age  and  do  far  more  harm 
than  good.  Young  horses  are  easily  trained  to 
drive  without  them,  and  they  are  the  more 
valuable  for  it.  Great  care  should  be  taken, 
however,  in  removing  blinders  from  a  horse 
that  has  been  accustomed  to  them.  Seeing  the 
carriage  behind  him  for  the  first  time  might 
give  him  such  a  fright  that  an  accident  would 
follow.  The  next  time  you  walk  down  town 
obscfce  every  horse  you  meet.  You  will  be  sur 
prised  to  see  how  large  a  proportion  of  the  poor 
creatures  have  their  eyes  so  closely  covered, 
that  the  wonder  is  how  they  can  see  at  all. 
We  ought  to  be  ashamed  of  it  every  time  we 
look  one  of  them  in  the  face." 

"  I  have  often  heard  it  said  that  it  is  no  easy 
matter  to  get  horses  properly  shod  "  continued 
the  first  speaker. 

"  Ignorant  blacksmiths  ruin  horses  by  bad 
shoeing  the  world  over"  said  Mr.  Gates  ear 
nestly.  " «  True,  and  pity  'tis,  'tis  true.'  I 
don't  think  I  exaggerate  when  I  say  that  all  the 
foot  diseases  that  horses  suffer  from  are  caused 
by  rasping,  scraping,  paring,  scooping,  and 
otherwise  mutilating  the  hoof.  Some  scientists 
who  have  made  a  study  of  this  matter  contend 
that  a  horse  should  never  be  shod.  They  say 


28  FOR  PITY'S  SAKE. 

that  the  Creator  'knew  what  he  was  about  when 
he  made  the  horse's  foot,  and  man's  attempts 
to  improve  on  nature  have  only  caused  disease 
and  untold  suffering. 

A  friend  of  mine  lost  a  fine  horse  not  long 
ago.  Quantities  of  nauseous  drugs  were 
poured  down  the  creature's  throat  for  the  colic. 
Blisters,  that  only  added  to  his  suffering,  were 
applied  for  various  imaginary  ailments.  Lock 
jaw  set  in  and  he  died  in  terrible  agony.  A 
post-mortem  showed  that  it  was  all  caused  by 
a  long  pointed  nail  in  his  foot.  Oh  !  the  horror 
of  it ! " 

"  It  makes  one's  blood  run  cold  "  continued 
Mr.  Gates  "  to  think  of  the  torture  that  horses 
are  subjected  to,  with  no  malicious  intent 
whatever.  Now  there  is  old  Mr.  Pinch.  His 
horse  is  a  rack  of  bones  for  want  of  proper 
food  and  care.  He  will  leave  him  standing  out 
on  the  north-east  corner  of  the  church  on  Sun 
day, —  snow  up  to  his  fetlocks, —  the  wind  blow 
ing  a  gale  ;  — and  if  the  old  man  happens  to  be 
a  little  late,  he  won't  stop  to  put  a  blanket  on. 
I  saw  the  poor  beast  there  one  day  last  winter 
in  a  storm  of  sleet  and  rain.  It  was  so  cold  I 
wondered  that  he  didn't  freeze  stiff  in  his 
tracks.  I  led  him  into  a  barn  near  by,  covered 
him  up  and  left  him.  I  told  Mr.  Pinch  after- 


FOR  PITY'S  SAA'E.  29 

wards  that  I  did  it  ;  and  I  thought  it  the  duty 
of  every  man  to  protect  animals  from  abuse 
and  neglect  whenever  it  was  in  his  power.  I 
believe  he  has  been  more  careful  since. 

The  outrageous  abuse  of  dumb  creatures  has 
its  hopeful  side  ;  for  the  humane  societies  are 
pretty  sure  to  discover  and  punish  startling 
offences.  The  suffering  that  is  caused  by 
ignorance,  thoughtlessness,  fashion  and  folly, 
is  harder  to  get  at." 

"  Look  at  that  horse  going  past  in  the  road 
now ! "  Mr.  Gates  exclaimed,  "  It  is  most 
cruelly  harnessed.  The  man  who  is  driving  is 
getting  up  a  treatise  on  Astronomy  or  some 
thing  or  other  that  keeps  his  head  in  the 
clouds.  He  doesn't  know  any  more  about  a 
horse  than  he  does  about  a  kangaroo.  A  bit 
is  a  bit,  to  him,  no  matter  what  it  was  de 
signed  for.  Now  the  bit  in  that  gentle  creat 
ure's  mouth  is  a  regular  jaw-breaker,  gotten  up 
for  some  strong,  unmanageable  animal,  and  it 
means  torture  every  minute.  Likely  enough 
he  bought  the  whole  harness  cheap  at  an 
auction  sale,  and  put  it  on  without  altering  a 
buckle.  See  how  her  head  is  pulled  up  by  that 
over-draw  check.  I  tell  you  !  every  bone  and 
muscle  in  her  neck  and  back  are  aching  from 
the  strain  of  it.  All  needless  unpardonable 


30  FOR  PITY'S  SAKE. 

torture.  I'll  overhaul  that  man  before  to 
morrow  night.  I  believe  there  is  nothing  that 
frets  a  horse  more  than  the  little  wire  bit  of 
the  over-draw  check ;  and  nothing  more  purely 
needless  was  ever  added  to  the  harness  of  a 
quiet,  well-behaved  animal. 

Many  coachmen  seem  to  be  proud  of  their 
horses  when  they  toss  up  their  heads,  champ 
their  bits  and  fling  foam  from  their  mouths. 
Poor  fools  —  they  don't  know  that  the  creat 
ures  throw  their  heads  up  because  they  are  in 
agony,  and  it  is  the  only  way  they  can  move 
them  for  a  moment's  relief.  Every  owner  of  a 
horse  ought  to  know  it,  and  see  to  it,  that  his 
horses  are  comfortably  harnessed.  Now  and 
then  I  see  a  top-check  and  a  martingale  used 
together  by  some  ignoramus  who  happened  to 
have  a  martingale  on  his  harness  and  didn't 
know  enough  to  take  it  off  when  he  added  the 
over-draw  check.  The  two  combined  make  a 
double  contrivance  for  torture  worthy  a  fiend. 

I  think  it  is  '  Howard,'  who,  in  one  of  his 
masterly  articles  on  the  abuse  of  the  horse, 
asks  this  question  ;  '  Did  you  ever  stand  out 
side  one  of  the  fashionable  churches  in  New 
York,  or  any  of  our  large  cities  and  look  at 
the  elegant  equipages  waiting  for  the  wor 
shippers  ?'  I  have  done  so  many  times  and 


FOR  PITY'S  SAKE.  31 

wondered  at  the  hard  heart  of  man.  The 
horses  are  made  wretched  by  uncomfortable 
trappings.  Their  heads  are  kept  cramped  in 
unnatural  positions  until  their  misery  becomes 
unbearable.  They  grow  nervous  and  restless. 
What  follows  ?  A  sharp  cut  of  the  whip  to 
make  them  stand  still.  I  wonder  if  a  cut  from 
behind  on  the  driver  would  have  a  soothing 
effect  on  ///';;/.  The  owners  are  inside  the 
church,  kneeling  on  their  soft  cushions,  pray 
ing  that  their  sins  may  be  forgiven.  Their 
prayers  will  hang  between  heaven  and  earth 
like  Mahomet's  coffin,  some  little  time,  I'm 
thinking,  before  they  reach  the  ear  of  the 
Creator  of  the  poor  beasts  they  are  so  cruelly 
sinning  against." 

"  The  intelligence  developed  in  animals  that 
have  a  fair  chance  in  life  is  surprising,"  con 
tinued  Mr.  Gates,  with  a  glance  at  his  watch. 
"  Take,  for  instance,  an  ordinary  horse  that  has 
never  been  knocked  about  in  the  world,  the 
property  of  Tom,  Dick  and  Harry  ;  one  that 
has  been  kindly  and  sensibly  reared  by  people 
who  appreciate  his  rights  as  well  as  his  worth, 
and  he  is  not  only  a  faithful,  useful  friend,  but 
a  companionable  one.  Horses  that  are  patiently 
taught  what  is  required  of  them,  talked  to  in  a 
quiet,  kindly  tone,  learn  to  understand  what  is 


32  FOR  PITY'S  SAKE. 

said  to  them  and  exhibit  many  qualities  worthy 
a  human  animal. 

I  do  not  mean  you  to  infer  that  I  think  there 
is  no  evil  in  horse-nature.  I  have  seen  as 
vicious  brutes  among  them  as  ever  stood  on 
four  legs  ;  but  as  a  rule,  they  are  good  tempered 
and  well  meaning,  and  I  believe  that  ninety- 
nine  one-hundredths  of  the  accidents  that  hap 
pen  with  horses  are  caused  by  unwise  training, 
or  brutal  treatment  sometime  in  their  lives. 
They  are  made  nervous  and  irritable  by  being 
roughly  handled  and  uncomfortably  harnessed. 
The  lash  is  always  hanging  over  them.  Even 
the  voice  of  the  driver  or  groom  often  makes 
them  quiver  with  fear.  When  they  have  been 
fretted  beyond  endurance,  who  wonders  that 
they  try  to  kick  against  the  pricks  ?  " 

"  The  end,"  said  Mr.  Gates  as  he  arose  from 
his  chair,  adding  as  he  drove  away, —  "  Good 
night,  my  friends  —  good-night!  When  you 
want  another  lecture  on  horseology,  send  for 
me.  I'll  give  you  sound  doctrine  every  time. 
John  Boyle  O'Reilly  said  that  man  deserves 
hell  were  it  only  for  his  treatment  of  horses, 
and  I  agree  with  him." 

A  vote  of  thanks  was  shouted  after  Mr. 
Gates.  Miss  Kate  then  proposed  that  they 
should  meet  at  the  same  place  early  on  the  fol- 


f 

I  CJ1 


FOR  PITY'S  SAKE.  33 

lowing  evening,  and  that  all  should  come  pre 
pared  to  relate  something  of  interest  about 
animals.  She  wished  it  distinctly  understood, 
however,  that  anecdotes  supported  by  hear 
say  evidence  alone,  would  be  ruled  out.  Only 
personal  experiences,  and  stories  that  the  nar 
rator  could  vouch  for  as  strictly  true,  would 
meet  the  requirement. 

This  meeting  with  hearty  approval,  the  party 
soon  after  broke  up  and  all  retired  to  the 
house. 

"Kindness  to  animals  is  wo  unworthy  exer 
cise  of  benevolence.  The  inevitable  shortness 
then  of  their  existence  should  plead  for  them 
touchingly.  The  insects  on  the  surface  of  the 
water,  poor  ephemeral  things,  -who  would  need 
lessly  abridge  their  dancing  pleasures  of  to-day? 
Such  feelings  we  should  have  towards  the  whole 
animal  creation.  We  have  positive  duties  to 
perform  to  those  animals  over  whom  we  are 
master  for  however  short  a  time.  This  seems 
too  obvious  to  be  insisted  upon ;  but  there  are 
persons  who  act  as  though  they  thought  they 
could  buy  the  right  of  ill-treating  any  of  God's 
creatures.  We  should  never  in  any  way  consent 
to  the  ill-treatment  of  animals,  because  the 
fear  of  lidicule  or  any  other  fear,  prevents  our 
interfering.  As  to  their  being  anything  really 
trijHny  in  any  act  of  humanity,  however  slight,  it 
is  moral  blindness  to  suppose  so.  The  few 
moments  in  the  course  of  each  day  which  a 
man  absorbs  in  some  worldly  pursuit  may  care 
lessly  expend  in  kind  words  or  trilling  chari 
ties  those  around  him,  and  kindness  to  an 
animal  is  one  of  these,  are  perhaps,  in  the  sight 
of  Heaven,  the  only  time  that  he  has  lived  to 
any  purpose  worth)'  of  recording." 

(Sir  Arthur  Helps'  Essay  on  the  Exercise  of  Benevolence,) 


"Open  thy  mouth  for  the  dumb." 

(Proverbs  31-8.) 


The  greatest  of  German  naturalists,  Alex. 
34       V.  Humboldt,  declared   "Cruelty  to  animals  is 
the  characteristic  vice  of  a  vulgar,  base  nation 
or  individual." 

"  ^    - 

II. 

"  A  pleasant  New  England  village,  not  too  far  removed 
from  a  large  town  and  the  railroad,  is  the  best 
dwelling-place  in  the  world." 

The  village  clock  in  the  distance  struck  ten. 
My  little  brother  and  I  were  now  left  on  the 
veranda  alone.  We  were  strangers  in  the  place, 
having  arrived  that  afternoon.  Although  weary 
from  a  long  and  tiresome  drive,  we  had  sat 
there,  willing  and  interested  listeners  to  the 
conversation  I  have  related. 

Our  home  was  in  the  far  West.  My  father, 
a  New  England  boy,  had  been  prevented  by 
press  of  business  from  visiting  his  own  country, 
as  he  loved  to  call  it,  for  many  years.  A  com 
bination  of  favorable  circumstances  had  that 
season  made  it  possible.  Plow  his  dear  face 
lighted  with  joy  when  he  told  us  that  he  had 
made  arrangements  to  devote  the  whole  sum 
mer  to  a  pleasure  trip  with  his  family  ;  that  the 
time  had  come  to  carry  into  effect  a  long 
cherished  plan,  —  a  carriage  drive  through  New 
England.  This  had  been  a  dream  of  the  future 
that  we  had  enjoyed  in  prospect  until  we  had 
forgotten  to  expect  its  realization.  We  set 
about  making  our  preparations  with  light  and 


FOR  PITY'S  SAKE.  55 

happy  hearts.  Our  little  party  consisted  of  my 
father,  my  mother,  a  younger  brother,  and  my 
self —  a  tired-out  girl  graduate.  We  went  by 
rail  directly  to  Boston  where  we  passed  three 
busy  weeks  visiting  places  where  the  history  of 
our  country  was  made,  —  exploring  the  beauti 
ful  suburbs  of  the  city,  —  sailing  down  its  fine 
harbor,  —  strolling  on  sandy  beaches,  —  or 
climbing  the  bold  rocky  cliffs  that  in  this 
vicinity  give  such  fascinating  variety  to  old 
ocean's  bounds.  My  father  then  hired  a  pair  of 
stout  horses,  a  comfortable  roomy  carriage  and 
a  driver,  for  an  indefinite  time. 

Here  began  our  "  Summer  in  a  Phaeton  " 
which  in  the  end  realized  our  expectations,  and 
went  upon  record  as  the  ideal  summer  of  our 
lives.  Free  from  business  cares  my  father  was 
young  again.  The  June  days  were  never  more 
beautiful,  and  our  enthusiasm  knew  no  bounds 
as  the  great  panorama  of  hills,  valleys,  forests 
and  streams  unrolled  before  us.  We  journeyed 
leisurely,  taking  ample  time  to  rest  for  ourselves 
and  for  our  horses  until  we  arrived  at  the 
Crawford  House  in  the  heart  of  New  England's 
grand  and  picturesque  scenery.  Here  our 
stay  lengthened  into  weeks.  To  me,  who  ha'd 
all  my  life  dwelt  in  a  city  of  the  plains,  it 
was  like  living  in  fairy-land.  The  beauty  of 


36  FOR  PITY'S  SAKE. 

nature  was  bewildering  ;  its  charm  and  variety 
inexhaustible  ;  and  we  gave  ourselves  up  to 
the  enjoyment  of  it  with  child-like  abandon. 
From  the  Glen,  the  smiles  and  the  frowns 
of  the  monarch  of  the  mountains  were  equally 
fascinating.  I  had  never  known  before  that 
a  mountain  is  a  creature  of  so  varied  moods 
and  aspects.  I  never  wearied  of  watching  the 
fantastic  shapes  and  motions  of  the  clouds 
as  they  wreathed  themselves  about  Mount 
Washington's  stately  head  ;  of  studying  the 
exquisite  dissolving  views  of  light  and  shadow 
that  played  upon  its  rugged  sides  ;  or  of  tracing 
the  outline  of  the  majestic  peak  when  clearly 
defined  against  a  cloudless  sky. 

From  the  summit,  - —  who  can  picture  the 
glory  of  the  morning  among  these  mountain 
billows,  as  crest  after  crest  is  flushed  with  color 
by  the  rising  sun  ?  Who  can  describe  the 
witching  weirdness  of  moonlight  above  the 
clouds  ;  or  the  awfulness  of  a  storm  in  the  home 
of  the  lightning  ? 

From  a  sheltered  nook  near  "The  Profile,"  I 
gazed  with  tears  in  my  eyes  at  the  "Great 
Stone  Face."  The  grandeur  of  the  Notch,  the 
wild  beauty  of  the  Flume,  the  charming  vistas 
in  the  forest  drives  and  the  matchless  views  of 
the  long  ranges  of  mountains  from  Bethlehem, 


FOR  PITY'S  SAKE.  37 

Jefferson  and  more  distant  villages,  all  left 
precious  pictures  in  memory's  gallery  in  colors 
that  never  grow  dim. 

Was  it  Dr.  Holmes  who  wrote,  "  He  who 
would  enjoy  mountains  must  have  mountains 
in  his  heart  ?  "  The  world  has  need  of  men 
and  women  who  have  mountains  in  their  hearts 
akin  to  these  grand  peaks,  superb  in  their  calm 
strength  and  unconscious  greatness. 

From  the  mountains,  our  return  route  was 
mapped  out  to  the  Maine  coast ;  thence  back  to 
Boston  along  the  shore.  Our  drive  homeward 
in  the  early  September  days  was  quite  as  en 
joyable  as  its  beginning  in  summer,  although 
marked  with  less  excitement  and  enthusiasm. 
Our  road  wound' through  lovely  valleys  with 
sloping-roofed  farm-houses  here  and  there  in 
the  shade  of  grand  old  oaks  and  elms  ;  over 
rugged  hills  on  whose  tops  we  rested  long  to 
feast  our  eyes  on  the  beauty  around  us  ;  and 
through  long  stretches  of  w  Id  woods  that  had 
never  known  the  axe  of  the  destroyer.  When 
we  reached  the  cities  on  the  sea,  frequent  ex 
cursions  to  the  shore  and  to  the  fair  islands  on 
the  coast,  added  a  fresh  charm  to  the  days  that 
were  passing  too  quickly.  Our  three  months 
with  nature  had  taught  us  that  there  is  more 
to  live  for  than  we  had  ever  before  imagined. 


38  FOR  PITY'S  SAKE. 

Thus  driving  on,  stopping  here  and  there  for 
rest  and  recreation,  we  arrived  at  the  quaint 
old  sea-port  of  New  Hampshire,  —  the  River- 
mouth  of  novelist  and  poet,  - —  the  home  of  the 
"  Bad  Boy,"  who  was  not  such  a  very  bad  boy 
after  all.  We  had  intended  to  remain  a  few 
days  to  explore  this  little  city,  so  rich  in  natural 
environment  ;  so  famed  in  poetry  and  song. 
But  there,  the  almost  forgotten  hum  of  business 
came  to  us  from  afar, — a  telegram  calling  my 
father  at  once  to  New  York.  My  mother 
hurriedly  decided  to  accompany  him,  and  a 
Boston  lady  whose  acquaintance  we  had  made 
at  the  Crawford,  gladly  joined  my  brother  and 
myself  for  the  carriage  drive  to  the  "Hub." 
Donald,  our  driver,  assured  my  father  that  he 
had  driven  over  the  road  before  ;  that  he  knew 
every  foot  of  the  way,  and  a  comfortable  hotel 
where  we  could  pass  the  following  night.  In 
the  evening  as  we  were  making  arrangements 
to  proceed  on  our  journey,  he  came  to  me  and 
with  an  air  of  conscious  importance,  suggested 
our  taking  a  well-filled  lunch  basket  and  urged 
us  to  make  ready  to  start  as  early  as  possible. 

In  the  morning  we  were  up  betimes  and 
away.  I  knew  that  we  were  travelling  faster  that 
day  than  usual  but  scarcely  gave  the  matter  a 
thought.  Possibly  I  felt  glad  to  be  hurried  on, 


The  Docktail  Parade. 


,,v,,,    me   the  man  who  docks  his  horse's  tail— 
I  rare  not  what  his  present  station — 
And  1  will  show  you  one  whose  pedigree 
\Vill  bear  but  slight  investigation. 

One  generation  back,  two  at  the  most — 
What  do  we  find  on  his  family  tree? 

yo  Plymouth  Hock  there,  nor  Mayflower  stock, 
Xo  noble  hero  brave  nor  fair  ladi/c. 

His  ancestors,  in  times  not  far  remote, 

Hid  themselves  in  dens,  dives,  hovels  and  jails, 
Minus  soap,  food,  and  clothes,  just  as  now 
Their  descendants'  horses  are  minus  their  tails. 

Look  for  yourself  as  the  poor  fools  dash  by, 
Arc  they  not  all  plebeian  plain  enough? 

That  fine-bred  horses  should  be  tortured  by 
Such  base-born  donkeys  is  pretty  tough. 

Don't  dock  your  horse's  tail,  then,/w/wj/</  ninth, 
If  you  would  hide  your  low  extraction, 

He  will  have  his  revenge  in  betraying 
That  you  sprang  from  a  painfully  small 
And  extremely  vulgar  fraction. 

Kindness  to  Animals. 

But  who  shall  speak  for  those  whose  mouths 

are  dumb? 
The  poor,  brave  brutes,  with  patient  eyes,   and 

feet  that  go  and  come 
To  do  our  bidding,  toiling  on  without  reward  or 

fee, 
Wearing  their  very  lives  away,  poor  things,  for 

you  and  me, 
The  brave  dumb  things !  no  voice  have  they  to 

say,  "Why  do  ye  so?" 
Am  I  not  man's  most  faithful  slave,  his   friend 

and  not  his  foe? 
Give  me  one  kind,    caressing   word,   undo  this 

heavy  load, 

Nor  torture  me  along  the  way  with  whip  and 
thong  and  goad." 


What  can  be  more  touching  than  the  sight  of 
that  submissive  confidence— the  humble  obedience— 
with  which  man  is  appealed  to  by  those  animals 
that  support  his  life?  *  *  In  man's  brutality  to 
these  the  pathos  of  the  brutes'  submission  is  over 
powering  .—John  G.  Shortall. 


Mercy. 


In  the  Mosaic  code  of  laws  there  are  several 
special  commands  by  whicn  mercy  to  animals 
is  enjoined.  These  divine  commands,  taken 
with  such  passages  of  Scripture  as  inscribe 
God's  watchful  care  over  all  His  creatures,  ought 
to  give  us  higher  vieAvs  of  our  relation  to  the 
animals  that  serve  us,  or  are  useful  to  us,  and 
ought  to  inspire  us  with  more  of  that  "Peace  on 
earth,  goodwill  to  all,"  which  our  all-merciful 
and  all-loving  Saviour  came  to  proclaim.  Our 
Divine  Creator  so  far  declares,  his  merciful 
regard  for  the  lower  animals  that  in  the  cove 
nant  with  Noah  they  were  specially  mentioned, 
and  in  the  institution  of  the  Sabbath  they  were 
to  share  the  advantage  of  rest  from  toil  and 
labor  on  that  holy  day, 


"  Driving  up  to  the  <  Country  Inn '    where   my  story 
opens,  we  felt  its  air  of  resff-.lnsss  b2fore  we  entered. '  ' 


Character  of  a  Country. 

All  history  tells  us  that  the  character  of  a 
country  may  be  determined  by  the  manner  in 
which  the  laws  of  kindness  are  enforced,  and 
that  among  nations  where  the  pastimes  of  the 
people  have  been  the  torture  of  animals,  the 
seeds  of  demoralization  and  decay  were  soon 
sown.  As  has  been  very  justly  remarked,  those 
who  habituate  themselves  to  the  practice  of 
acts  of  cruelty  in  time  become  so  hardened  as 
to  have  a  disregard  of  human  comfort  and  even 
of  human  life. 


FOR  PITY'S  SAKE,  4* 

as  our  pleasure  trip  was  virtually  ended. 
About  mid-day  we  stopped  by  the  roadside, 
climbed  over  the  wall,  and  in  the  shade  of  a 
spreading  oak  refreshed  ourselves  from  the 
contents  of  the  lunch  basket.  Later  in  the 
day,  we  reined  up  at  a  little  country  tavern 
where  Donald  fed  the  horses  and  brought  them 
back  to  the  door  again,  just  as  we  were  making 
ourselves  comfortable  in  easy  chairs  for  an 
hour's  rest.  He  seemed  so  impatient  to  go  on 
that  we  renewed  our  journey  without  longer 
delay.  Thus  from  early  morning  until  nearly 
six  o'clock,  we  sped  on,  up  hill  and  down, 
through  clouds  of  dust  that  nearly  smothered 
us.  Little  remains  in  my  memory  of  that  long 
hot  day,  but  discomfort  and  weariness. 

Driving  up  to  the  "  Country  Inn  "  where  my 
story  opens  we  felt  its  air  of  restfulness  before 
we  entered.  The  house  was  a  well  preserved 
relic  of  Colonial  days  ; — a  house  with  a  history. 
I  was  told  that  it  was  built  by  a  hero  of  the 
Revolution,  and  that  this  peaceful  spot  was  the 
home  of  his  family  vv"-n  our  country  was 
racked  with  war. 

All  about  were  grand  old  elms  that  had 
been  planted  by  hands  long  since  mouldered  to 
dust.  Within  were  great  wainscoted  rooms  — 
many-paned  windows  —  fascinating  alcoves, — 


UN  I VI 


42  FOR  PITY'S  SAKE. 

deep  window  seats  —  broad,  open  fire-places  — 
tall  mantels  —  rich  mirrors, — all  suggestive  of 
the  stately  hospitality  in  the  life  of  the  olden 
time.  This  mansion,  handsome  and  attractive 
in  its  youth,  was  notably  rich  in  the  added 
associations  of  more  than  a  hundred  years. 
No  less  than  three  Presidents  of  the  United 
States  had  been  entertained  within  its  walls. 
The  great  claw-foot  chair  that  General  Wash 
ington  sat  in  was  preserved  as  a  precious  relic. 
Tradition  pointed  to  the  spot  where  General 
Lafayette  stood  and  shook  hands  with  the 
assembled  throng.  Distinguished  people  from 
many  lands  had  helped  to  make  the  mansion 
famous  ;  but  its  earliest  occupants,  by  their 
gracious  hospitality  and  far-reaching  generosity 
in  the  cause  of  education,  had  conferred  upon  it 
its  highest  honors. 

I  was  told  a  pathetic  little  incident  that 
occurred  on  the  Sunday  morning  following  the 
death  and  burial  of  the  last  member  of  this 
family. 

The  old  family  horse  listened  to  the  "  sound 
of  the  church-going  bell,"  as  he  stood  sedately 
in  his  stall.  What  did  it  mean  ?  Why  was  he 
not  groomed,  harnessed,  and  waiting  at  the 
door  ?  Minutes  passed  and  no  one  came.  He 
could  endure  it  no  longer.  He  loosed  his 


FOR  PITY'S  SAKE.  43 

fastenings, —  trotted  around  to  the  front  door, 
and  for  a  moment  stood  at  his  post.  The  bell 
began  to  toll.  What !  Late  at  meeting  ?  Never ! 

Slowly  he  went  on  unguided  —  stopped  at 
the  door  of  the  church  as  usual, —  then  went 
to  his  own  place  in  the  shed,  where  he  stood  in 
a  most  exemplary  manner  until  the  benediction 
was  pronounced.  Service  over,  he  joined  the 
home-going  worshippers,  no  doubt  satisfied 
that  he,  at  least,  had  done  what  he  could  to 
maintain  the  reputation  of  his  family. 

This  fine  old  house  with  many  fair  acres  of 
hill  and  dale  surrounding  it,  became  the  inheri 
tance. of  the  school  which  bears  the  name  of 
the  public-spirited  man  who  first  called  it 
"  home."  In  the  care  of  Trustees  who  zeal 
ously  guarded  the  honor  of  this  treasured  heir 
loom,  it  had  for  many  years  been  used  as  a 
temporary  home  for  the  friends  of  students, 
and  a  summer  resort  for  city  guests. 

The  register  of  this  Country  Inn  was  rich  in 
names  of  men  and  women  whom  the  world 
delights  to  honor. 

In  the  little  churchyard  on  the  grassy  knoll 
near  by,  are  names  famous  in  history  and 
literature,  that  will  live  long  after  the  stones 
upon  which  they  are  sculptured  shall  have 
crumbled  away. 


44  FOR  PITY'S  SAKE. 

I  had  long  known  of  this  historic  town  by 
the  fame  of  its  schools.  I  had  met  many 
young  men  and  young  women  who  had  gone 
out  from  these  institutions  with  hearts  full  of 
love  and  loyalty,  not  only  to  their  Alma  Mater, 
but  to  the  very  rocks  and  trees,  the  hills  and 
groves  that  environed  it.  But  the  quaint 
beauty,  the  old-time  stateliness,  the  subtle 
spirit  of  the  far-away  past  that  pervaded  this 
quiet  spot,  had  the  peculiar  charm  of  the  unex 
pected  and  strangely  fascinated  me. 

I  felt  that  it  was  good  to  be  there. 


Can  They  Suffer? 

The  day  may  come  when  the  rest  of  the 
animal  creation  may  acquire  those  rights  which 
never  could  have  been  withheld  from  them  but 
by  the  hand  of  tyranny.  It  may  come  one  day 
to  be  recognized  that  the  number  of  legs,  or  the 
villosity  of  the  skin  are  reasons  insufficient  for 
abandoning  a  sensitive  being  to  the  caprice  of  a 
tormentor.  What  else  is  it  that  should  trace 
the  insuperable  line  ?  Is  it  the  faculty  of 
reason,  or  perhaps  the  faculty  of  discourse? 
But  a  full-grown  horse  or  dog  is  beyond  com 
parison  a  more  rational  as  well  as  a  more  con 
versable  animal  than  an  infant  of  a  day,  a 
week,  or  even  a  month  old.  But  suppose  the 
case  were  otherwise,  what  could  it  avail?  The 
question  is  not  "Can  they  REASON?"  nor  "Can 
they  SPKAK?"  but  "Can  they  SUFFKK?" 

Btntham. 


I  u: 


Vi 

ten"erest. 


III. 

"  I  had  a  dream  which  was  not  all  a  dream." 
It  was  a  perfect  evening.  The  old  world 
seemed  full  of  beauty,  as  I  looked  out  on  this 
charming  landscape  flooded  with  soft  moon 
light.  The  cool  west  wind  blew  refreshingly 
across  green  lawns,  that  with  foliage  and  shrub 
bery  kept  the  dust  of  the  road  away  from  this 
ideal  spot. 

I  sat  for  a  short  time  alone  after  my  brother 
retired,  the  conversation  I  had  listened  to,  and 
the  events  of  the  evening  being  uppermost  in 
my  mind.  A  small  package  that  I  needed  had 
been  left  in  the  carriage.  Knowing  just  where 
to  find  it,  I  walked  out  without  speaking  to  any 
one,  found  the  door  of  the  carriage-house  wide 
open  and  stepped  in  unobserved.  As  I  came 
opposite  a  door  that  opened  from  one  side  into 
the  stable,  I  heard  one  of  the  hostlers  say, 

"That  team  that  came  in  just  before  supper 
was  awfully  used  up.  Why  !  that  fellow  got 
way  off  the  road  and  drove  round  and  round 
Robin  Hood's  barn  to  get  here.  He  covered 
more  miles  than  he  would  if  he  had  gone 
straight  to  Boston  over  the  old  turnpike,  from 
the  place  where  he  started  this  morning.  With 


46  '  FOR  PfTY'S  SAKE. 

four  people  —  that  heavy  carriage,  and  such  a 
hot,  dry  day  — -  'twas  outrageous.  I  wonder  one 
of  them  women  didn't  know  better  than  to  let 
him  do  it.  Strange  how  little  horse-sense 
some  women  have,  anyway.  I  s'pose  they're 
born  so,  and  p'raps  ain't  any  more  to  blame  for 
it  than  they  would  be  if  they  had  been  born 
with  one  eye.  When  women  know  more  about 
how  horses  ought  to  be  harnessed  and  driven, 
and  their  coachmen  know  they  know  it,  there 
won't  be  so  many  knocked  out  horses  as  there 
are  now." 

My  ears  tingled  with  shame,  but  I  had  yet 
more  to  hear  and  stood  as  if  riveted  to  the  spot. 

"Yes,"  said  another, ."  and  did  you  see  how 
their  heads  were  checked  up  ?  That  might  do 
for  an  hour  or  so,  but  for  all  day,  'twas  infernal. 
That  driver  ought  to  be  made  to  work  with  his 
head  screwed  back  just  so  from  mornin'  till 
night,  and  be  horse-whipped  into  the  bargain. 
I'd  like  to  be  the  one  to  put  him  through  it." 

"  I  unhitched  'em,"  said  the  first  speaker, 
"and  I  didn't  know  what  to  do  first  to  the  poor 
beasts.  After  dryin'  'em  off  a  bit,  I  turned  'em 
right  out  behind  the  barn  and  left  'em  to  shift 
for  themselves.  I  reckon  I  couldn't  ha'  done 
better,  for  they  had  chirked  up  consider'ble 
when  I  took  'em  in." 


FOR  PITY'S  SAKE.  47 

The  voices  ceased,  but  I  could  hear  the  men 
moving  chairs  to  the  front  of  the  stable  where 
they  seated  themselves  at  the  open  door  to 
enjoy  the  cool  of  the  evening. 

I  got  into  the  carriage  —  found  the  package  I 
came  for  ;  —  then  leaning  back  on  the  comfort- 
able  cushions,  waited  a  chance  to  slip  out  and 
back  to  the  house  unnoticed,  as  I  had  come  in. 
Who  can  explain  to  me  what  followed  ? 
Did  I  sleep  ? 
Did  I  dream  ? 

Was  I  endowed  with  a  sixth  sense  that  put 
me  in  such  close  sympathy  with  my  animal 
neighbors  that  I  could  understand^  their  lan 
guage  ?  Whatever  it  was,  the  occurrences  of 
that  night  are  a  mystery  to  me  still. 

At  first  I  heard  low  unintelligible  sounds. 
As  I  listened,  they  seemed  to  grow  louder  and 
I  could  now  and  then  distinguish  a  word. 
Where  I  was,  or  where  the  sounds  came  from,  I 
did  not  know.  Soon,  by  a  strange  sort  of  in 
tuition,  I  became  aware  that  I  was  alone  in  the 
stable,  —  that  the  men  had  gone  —  the  doors 
were  locked,  and  the  horses  were  conversing  in 
a  language  that  I  understood  perfectly.  I  felt 
like  an  eaves-dropper,  although  I  sat  bolt  up 
right  in  the  carriage  that  I  might  not  lose  a 
word. 


48  FOR  PITY'S  SAKE. 

"  What  are  you  groaning  for  Ned  ?  " 

"  Groaning  !  Who  has  a  better  right  ?  "  an 
swered  Ned.  "  I've  had  flies  and  mosquitoes  all 
over  me  to-day  thicker  than  the  measles,  and 
no  tail  to  switch  them  off  with.  Just  had  to 
give  up  to  'em  and  let  'em  have  their  own  way. 
I  had  a  tail  of  my  own,  that  with  a  good  vigor 
ous  switch  would  hit  a  fly  on  the  end  of  my 
nose,  and  here  I  am,  with  this  ridiculous  stump 
sticking  up  like  a  sore  thumb,  —  of  no  earthly 
use  to  me,  and  it  mortifies  me  so  I  can  hardly 
look  my  best  friend  in  the  face.  Good  Heavens  ! 
I'd  go  hungry  and  thirsty  all  my  days  and  not 
complain,  if  I  could  have  my  tail  back  again." 

"  Hasn't  your  tail  stump  stopped  aching  yet, 
Ned?" 

"  Stopped  aching  ?  No  !  "  said  Ned.  "  I  tell 
you  it  aches  clean  down  to  the  tip  end  of  the 
bone  that's  gone.  I  don't  know  how  to  account 
for  it.  I  know  quick  enough  that  I've  no  tail 
when  I  want  to  switch  it,  but  I  could  swear  it 
was  a  yard  long  by  the  ache  of  it." 

"  It's  a  hard  case  Ned  !  but  then,  you  are 
right  in  the  fashion ;  it's  English  you  know,  and 
awfully  swell." 

"Talk  about  fashion,"  snarled  Ned,"  Suppose 
it  was  the  fashion  not  to  have  hands.  My  mis 
tress  would  have  hers  cut  off,  would  she  ? 


FOR  PITY'S  SAKE.  49 

There  would  be  about  as  much  sense  in  it,  as 
in  cutting  off  my  tail.  Flies  bother  me  as 
much  as  they  do  her.  She  leaves  no  stone  un 
turned  to  rid  herself  of  the  pests  ;  then  cuts  off 
my  tail  and  puts  me  in  a  stable  black  with 
them.  Robbed  of  my  only  weapon  of  defense, 
all  I  can  do  is  to  stamp,  twitch,  rub,  roll  if  I 
have  room,  and  just  tire  myself  to  death  fight 
ing  them.  Mercy  knows  its  bad  enough  to  be 
tormented  by  flies,  even  if  you  have  a  tail.  By 
Jove !  hanging  is  too  good  for  anybody  who 
would  treat  a  horse  so." 

"Whoa,  Ned!  you're  running  away  with 
yourself,"  said  another  voice.  "  I  advise  you 
to  get  along  with  your  trouble  as  quietly  as 
you  can.  "  You  may  be  sold  at  auction  some 
day  ;  or  sent  down  South  where  you'd  have 
flies  the  year  round  instead  of  only  six  months, 
if  you  get  too  fractious.  Didn't  I  see  your 
mistress  out  here  to-day  patting  you  on  the 
neck,  and  feeding  you  with  sugar  ?  " 

"Supposing  you  did,"  said  Ned,  "  My  tail  is 
gone  all  the  same.  Oh  !  it  breaks  my  heart  to 
think  of  it." 

"  Poor  fellow,  you  are  worse  off  than  I  am. 
I  pity  you,"  said  another,  with  a  voice  full  of 
sympathy.  "  I  ought  not  to  complain  if  I  am 
so  tired  I  can  scarcely  speak.  We  have  had 


50  FOR  PITY'S  SAKE. 

an  awfully  tough  jaunt  to-day.  ..  Our  load  was 
heavy,  and  our  driver  hasn't  the  sense  of  a  hen. 
I  thought  we  should  drop  before  we  got  here, 
but  he  whipped  us  up  hill  and  down,  as  if  he 
thought  we  had  no  feelings.  It  wouldn't  have 
been  so  hard  on  us  if  we  could  have  moved 
our  heads  I  heard  Donald  say  when  he 
harnessed  us  in  the  morning,  that  he  wasn't 
going  to  have  his  horses  look  as  if  they  were 
half  asleep  ;  so  he  shortened  our  checks  and 
didn't  let  them  down  till  we  had  our  feed  at 
noon.  We  passed  watering-troughs  by  the 
road  side.  Oh !  how  we  longed  for  a  drink. 
We  pulled  towards  them  as  hard  as  we  dared, 
but  he  only  yanked  us  away  and  drove  on  the 
faster.  I  suppose  it  was  too  much  trouble  for 
him  to  get  off  and  let  down  our  heads.  There 
were  apples,  too,  lying  on  the  ground  under 
the  trees, —  beautiful  red  and  white  ones. 
Who  ever  thinks  how  hard  it  is  for  us  to  see 
apples  everywhere,  and  never  have  a  chance  to 
get  a  bite  ?  When  the  family  stopped  by  the 
way  and  had  a  jolly  time  over  their  luncheon  ; 
there  we  stood, —  our  eyes  staring  up  to  the 
sun, —  our  mouths  stretched  almost  to  our  ears, 
-  our  necks  aching  murderously, —  but  no 
one  thought  of  giving  us  a  rest. 

It  comes  harder  on  us  to  be  treated  so  be- 


FOR  PITY'S  SAKE.  51 

cause  we  have  known  better  days.  We 
belonged  to  a  good  woman  once,  who  had 
plenty  of  money, —  a  great  kind  heart ;  and  our 
home  was  one  to  be  proud  of.  Many  a  time 
have  we  taken  her  to  Newport  and  Lenox. 
We  enjoyed  the  trip  as  much  as  she  did,  and 
always  came  in  on  the  last  mile  almost  as  fresh 
as  when  we  started.  All  because  she  knew  a 
thing  or  two  ;  and  old  Patrick  who  took  care  of 
us  had  lived  with  her  so  long  that  he  was  no 
fool,  himself.  When  she  stopped  in  the  shade 
for  a  lunch  by  the  way,  she  never  forgot  a  bite 
of  grass  and  a  drink  of  water  for  us.  We  had 
the  best  of  care,  were  harnessed  comfortably 
and  driven  sensibly.  In  those  days,  life  was 
worth  living.  She  died. —  Things  are  different 
now." 

I  knew  that  the  last  speaker  was  our  own 
1  Brownie,'  and  I  knew  that  I  should  "  be 
ashamed  to  look  him  in  the  face  "  in  the  morn 
ing. 

Was  he  aware  that  I  had  listened  to  his  piti 
ful  story  ?  There  was  no  time  to  indulge  in 
thought  or  conjecture.  I  had  still  more  to  hear. 
The  next  speaker  was  'Bay,' — Brownie's  mate. 

"  I  was  tied  up  so  short  last  night  that  I 
couldn't  lie  down,  and  should  have  been  to 
night  if  a  man  who  walked  through  the  stable 


52  FOR  PITY'S  SAKE. 

just  before  it  was  closed  hadn't  spied  me.  I 
heard  him  say — '  Idiot  '--  when  he  length 
ened  out  my  halter.  This  morning  when 
Donald  led  me  out,  he  said  '  I  wonder  why  Bay 
didn't  lie  down.'  I  pulled  at  the  halter  and 
tried  to  show  him  why,  but  he  only  gave  me  a 
slap  and  told  me  to  keep  still.  He  has  had 
things  his  own  way  for  a  few  days  past.  I  wish 
we  could  stay  here  a  week  and  get  rested. 
That  roll  I  had  on  the  grass  back  of  the  stable 
did  me  more  good  than  a  night's  sleep.  Didn't 
we  get  a  good  bite  of  that  grass,  too  ?  Why 
we  were  out  there  more  than  an  hour.  It 
made  me  think  of  old  times — before  our 
family  was  broken  up  and  we  were  sold.  You 
seem  to  fare  pretty  well  here." 

"  Well  !  you  might  go  farther  and  fare 
worse,"  answered  another.  "We  don't  go  in 
for  much  style,  but  we  are  pretty  comfortable. 
Plenty  to  eat  and  to  drink, — not  very  often 
over-driven,  and  best  of  all,  a  chance  now  and 
then  to  run  out  in  the  field.  It  does  a  fellow  a 
world  of  good  to  roll  and  stretch  when  he  is 
tired." 

"That's  so,"  said  another  fiercely,  "I  know 
more  of  the  want  of  it  than  I  do  of  the  good  of 
it.  Haven't  had  a  roll  for  two  years." 

"Where  are  you  from,"  asked  one. 


FOR  PITY'S  SAKE.  53 

"  Oh  !  I'm  from  a  city  stable  where  they  have 
to  economise  in  room.  No  one  ever  thinks 
we  need  to  lie  down  and  stretch  out  our  whole 
length  once  in  a  while.  It  is  only  how  to  get 
the  greatest  number  of  us  into  the  smallest 
space  ;  so  we  have  to  double  ourselves  up  like 
jack-knives  in  our  stalls,  and  get  on  as  well  as 
we  can.  It's  mighty  hard  lines  though.  Our 
stable  is  as  tight  as  a  box.  There  isn't  even  a 
knot-hole  to  let  in  fresh  air  when  the  door  is 
shut.  The  ceiling  is  low  to  give  more  room 
for  hay  overhead.  When  sixty  of  us  are  shut 
in  there  at  night,  —  I  don't  know  what  keeps 
us  alive.  I  tell  you,  we  have  to  fight  for 
breath  till  we  are  all  tired  out.  Whew!  doesn't 
the  air  smell  good  when  that  door  is  opened  in 
the  morning  ? " 

"  Didn't  that  little  cur  come  with  you  —  the 
one  that's  kept  up  such  a  whimpering  for  the 
last  two  hours?"  some  one  asked. 

"Yes  !  that's  our  dog,"  was  the  reply,  "What's 
the  matter  with  you  Tobey  ? ': 

"  Matter  enough,"  whined  Tobey,  "  Tim  tied 
me  up  here  when  we  drove  in  at  noon.  He 
gave  me  some  dinner,  but  not  a  drop  to  drink. 
There  was  about  a  spoonful  o'  water  in  that 
old  rusty  pan,  but  I  licked  it  dry  in  no  time, 
and  here  I  am  choking  to  death.  Oh  dear  !  I 


54  FOR  PITY'S  SAKE. 

wish  they  wouldn't  forget  the  water.  They 
don't  forget  to  feed  me  once  a  day,  —  that's 
the  fashion  now,  —  it's  bad  for  a  dog's  health 
to  eat  too  often.  I'd  risk  it  twice  a  day  if  I 
had  the  chance.  I  think  it's  bad  enough  to  go 
to  bed  hungry,  and  I  know  it's  mighty  bad  for 
my  health  to  be  tied  up  here  all  this  time  with 
no  water.  Wouldn't  I  like  to  run  down  to 
that  well  behind  the  stable  and  just  soak  my 
throat?  Wouldtft  it  be  fun  to  have  a  neck  as 
long  as  a  giraffe's  and  feel  the  water  running 
down  the  whole  length  ?  Oh  dear  !  I  suppose  I 
shall  have  to  stand  it  until  somebody  happens 
to  think  of  me.  " 

"  You  poor  little  chap.  They  are  too  mean 
to  neglect  you  so.  I  believe  I  should  go  mad 
it  I  were  in  your  place.  I  never  knew  what  it 
meant  to  be  forgotten,  in  my  life." 

"  No  !  I'll  bet  you  never  did,  Frazzle,"  cried 
Ned.  "  Mighty  little  yon  know  about  trouble, 
anyway.  There  are  no  briers  in  your  hay.  Your 
stall  is  large  enough  to  drive  in  a  four  in  hand 
team  and  turn  round.  You  have  all  the  fresh 
grass  you  can  eat.  There  is  an  apple  or  a 
lump  of  sugar  in  everybody's  pocket  for  you. 
You  can  carry  your  head  as  you  like,  and  your 
tail  touches  the  ground.  But  I'm  glad  you've 
got  a  soft  snap,  Frazzle.  You're  a  good  fellow 


FOR  PITY'S  SAKE.  55 

if  you  are  not  handsome,  and  you  can  go,  some.1' 
"  That's  so,"  said  another.  "  One  day  last 
winter  when  you  were  trotting  on  the  river,  I 
heard  a  man  say,  '  Great  Scott !  that  fellow  has 
got  sixteen  legs.  Is  he  a  centipede  ? '  There 
was  a  great  crowd  looking  on.  I  tell  you  it 
was  fun  for  us  when  you  sailed  in  so  far  ahead. 
Yes,  we're  all  proud  of  you,  and  glad  that 
you're  a  lucky  one.  It  makes  us  think  a  better 
time  is  coming,  when  we  see  a  horse  treated 
like  a  Christian.  You're  fortunate,  Frazzle,  to 
be  owned  by  a  woman." 

"  Talk  about  being  owned  by  a  woman," 
piped  up  Ned.  "  Don't  I  belong  to  a  woman  ? 
Didn't  she  send  me  up  to  Canada  to  have  my 
tail  cut  off — afraid  of  getting  into  trouble  if 
she  had  it  done  here  ?  Bah  !  '  Fortunate  to 
be  owned  by  a  woman.'  I'd  like  to  strangle  a 
few  of  'em.  There  are  some  people  in  this 
world  that  ought  to  be  turned  into  horses. 
If  I  had  the  handling  of  them,  wouldn't  I  give 
'em  fits  ?  You  bet  !  they'd  know  some  things 
they  don't  know  now,  before  I  got  done  with 
'em." 

"  Oh  bosh,  Ned  !  You  can  talk  savage 
enough,  but  we  all  know  you're  as  tender 
hearted  as  a  chicken.  If  you  had  the  reins  in 
your  hands,  you'd  just  treat  everybody  as  you'd 


56  FOR  PITY'S  SAKE. 

like  to  be  treated  yourself.  You  would  heap 
coals  of  fire  on  their  heads." 

"  Heap  coals  of  fire  on  their  heads,"  growled 
Ned,  "  If  I  could  catch  the  man  that  cut  off 
my  tail,  I'd  burn  him  at  the  stake.  But  where 
is  '  Madame  '  ?  Is  she  napping  ?  We  haven't 
heard  a  word  from  her  to-night  ;  and  Dick,  what 
have  you  been  up  to  to-day  ?  " 

"  Oh  !  I  had  some  rare  good  fun  this  morn 
ing  out  in  the  yard,"  said  Dick,  laughing. 
"  You  ought  to  have  been  there.  They  are  try 
ing  to  make  a  saddle  horse  of  me  and  I'm  not 
going  to  stand  it.  Any  man  with  half  an  eye 
in  his  head  ought  to  see  that  I'm  not  built  fora 
saddle  horse.  I  had  tossed  off  three  or  four 
boys  who  ventured  to  get  on  my  back,  — 
did  it  easy  you  know, —  didn't  want  to  hurt  the 
little  fellows, —  only  to  let  'em  know  that  they 
couldn't  ride. 

A  nice  little  scheme  was  hatched  up  this 
morning,  but  I  happened  to  hear  all  about  it. 
The  Irishman  that  lives  over  in  the  alley  was 
here.  There's  more  or  less  swagger  about  him 
you  know.  He  wasn't  afraid  to  ride  any  horse 
they  could  scare  up.  When  he  lived  in  the  old 
country  they  used  to  send  for  him  from  miles 
away  to  break  in  colts  that  nobody  could 
manage.  The  worst  of  them  had  to  give  in  to 


FOR  PITY'S  SAKE.  57 

him  every  time.  There  was  a  lot  more  of  that 
kind  of  talk.  It  all  ended  just  as  I  expected.  I 
was  led  out  saddled  and  bridled  and  I  felt  gay. 
He  jumped  into  the  saddle  as  if  he  thought  he 
was  going  to  boss  the  job,  but  it  didn't  take 
him  long  to  find  out  he  was  mistaken.  I 
danced  along  a  few  steps  just  to  make  him  feel 
good.  He  sung  out  'Be  jabbers  he's  a  fine 
baste  to  the  saddle,  look  a'  that  now.' 

He  had  hardly  got  the  words  out  of  his 
mouth  when  he  found  himself  sprawling  full 
length  on  the  grass.  I  got  the  laugh  on  him, 
fine.  He  had  good  pluck,  though.  He  got  up, 
pulled  off  his  boots,  threw  his  coat  and  hat 
over  the  fence  and  jumped  on  again.  I  gave 
him  a  second  dose  like  the  first,  and  then  stood 
over  him  waiting  to  see  if  he  wanted  to  try  it 
again.  He  had  got  enough  of  it,  so  they  led 
me  back  into  the  stable.  I  didn't  know  what 
would  be  done  to  me,  but  it  was  all  so  funny, 
they  doubled  themselves  up  laughing  till  I 
thought  they'd  never  stop.  I  came  out  ahead 
that  time." 

"  I'm  glad  if  somebody's  had  some  fun  to 
day.  There's  little  enough  of  it  for  most  of  us, 
any  time,"  said  a  voice  I  had  not  heard  before. 
"  I've  been  at  work  in  the  field,  plowing  and 
harrowing  from  morning  till  night.  There  hasn't 


58  FOR  PITY'S  SAKE. 

been  much  fun  in  that,  I  can  tell  you.  Noth 
ing  makes  a  fellow  so  thirsty  as  working  in  the 
field  on  a  hot  day  —  be  he  man  or  beast.  The 
men  went  every  half  hour  to  their  jugs  behind 
the  tree  and  came  back  smacking  their  lips. 

Why  couldn't  they  see  that  we  needed  a  drop 
to  wet  our  parched  throats  as  much  as  they 
did  ?  Water  costs  nothing.  Men  are  so 
stupid  I  have  no  patience  with  them.  One 
wonders  if  they  ever  think.  We  had  to  plod 
on  from  morning  till  noon  without  a  drop,  our 
mouths  and  throats  as  dry  as  shavings.  When 
we  did  get  a  chance  at  water  we  wanted  to 
drink  enough  to  drown  ourselves  on  the  spot. 
I  could  have  drunk  the  well  dry  this  noon. 
Strange  that  we  can't  be  allowed  to  have  a 
drink  of  water  when  we  want  it." 

"  No  more  strange  than  a  good  many  other 
things  in  this  world,"  cried  Ned.  "  I've  had 
about  enough  of  it.  Can't  somebody  give  us  a 
cheery  word?  The  Colonel  hasn't  opened  his 
head  to-night.  Is  he  dead  ?  " 

"  Next  to  it,"  the  voice  of  the  cart-horse  re- 
replied.  "He's  sound  asleep, — been  snoring 
for  an  hour.  He's  been  out  making  calls  this 
afternoon.  He's  tired.  Golly !  Didn't  the 
Colonel  fall  on  his  feet  when  he  got  into  the 
family  he  belongs  to  now  ?  Good  old  souL 


FOR  PITY'S  SAKE.  59 

He  deserves  his  luck.  He's  in  clover  too  for 
life,  for  he'll  be  taken  good  care  of  as  long  as 
he  has  a  leg  to  stand  on." 

"  Well,  what  has  become  of  Beauty  ?  " 

"  Beauty's  asleep  too.  He  never  has  had 
trouble  enough  to  keep  him  awake  an  hour 
since  he  was  born." 

"  Come  Madame  !  Smooth  us  out  a  bit  be 
fore  we  go  to  sleep,  can't  you  ?  I  need  the 
best  you  can  do  for  me,"  said  Ned  with  a  long- 
drawn  sigh. 

For  a  moment  all  was  still,  then  a  pitying 
voice  in  low  and  gentle  tones  began, 

"  My  poor  children,  —  I  am  wide  awake.  I 
have  heard  every  word.  It  brings  up  before 
me  the  whole  of  my  long,  checkered  life.  I 
wish  I  could  comfort  you  ;  but  I  have  learned 
the  bitter  truth  —  that  we  are  helpless.  Men 
can  do  with  us  what  they  will.  If  they  treat 
us  kindly,  we  may  thank  our  lucky  stars  and 
make  the  most  of  it.  If  they  beat  and  bang 
us,  we  must  bear  it  as  best  we  can.  Many  of 
us  know  what  it  is  to  be  well  treated  ;  but  in  the 
long  run  we  get  far  more  kicks  than  kindness. 

I  have  seen  in  my  day  many  a  horse  that  had 
more  brains  than  the  stupid  lout  who  drove 
him  ;  —  many  a  one  that  was  less  a  beast,  than 
the  sot  that  held  the  lash  over  his  back. 


60  FOR  PITY'S  SAKE. 

Men  spoil  our  tempers,  —  hinder  our  useful 
ness,  and  shorten  our  lives,  by  maltreating  us  as 
they  do.  One  makes  us  wretched  by  loading 
us  with  elegant  useless  trappings, — fastening 
our  heads  up  so  we  can  only  stare  into  the 
heavens  while  our  feet  go  stumbling  over  the 
earth.  Another  makes  life  miserable  by  burden 
ing  us  with  mis-fitting  saddles  and  rough  dirty 
collars,  that  gall  our  backs  and  necks,  till  we 
are  covered  with  smarting  sores. 

One  claps  a  stiff,  gilded  cover  over  our  eyes 
so  we  can  scarcely  see  at  all.  Another  puts  on 
our  heads  old  broken  down  blinders,  that  in 
flame  and  ruin  our  eyes  by  flapping  against 
them  at  every  step  we  take. 

They  put  cruel  bits  into  our  mouths,  —  then 
yank  them  when  they  want  us  to  stop,  —  and 
yank  them  again  when  they  want  us  to  go. 

If  we  are  leg  weary  from  long  travel,  they 
whip  us  because  we  don't  go  fast  enough. 

If  we  are  tired  and  restless  from  long 
waiting,  they  whip  us  because  we  don't  stand 
still. 

If  we  see  or  hear  something  that  terrifies  us 
and  need  a  quieting  word,  down  comes  the 
sharp  lash  to  frighten  us  all  the  more. 

If  we  step  on  a  rolling  stone  and  fall  to  the 
ground,  they  add  to  our  hurt  by  thrashing  us. 


FOR  PITY'S  SAKE.  61 

If  we  can't  pull  our  load  up  a  steep  hill,  they 
beat  us. 

When  we  are  trying  our  best  to  back  our 
load  into  a  narrow  alley,  they  swear  at  us  and 
beat  us  again. 

They  let  small  boys  with  no  sense  or  judg 
ment,  rattle  us  round  over  the  stony  roads  till 
there  is  no  strength  or  courage  left  in  us. 

They  expect  us  to  trot  up  hill  and  down  for 
hours  without  a  breathing  spell. 

They  drive  us  half  a  day  over  the  dusty 
roads  without  giving  us  a  drop  of  water,  when 
our  throats  are  parched  with  thirst. 

They  founder  us  by  over-driving,  over-heat 
ing,  and  neglect; — then  murder  us  with 
blisters. 

They  make  us  foot-sore  by  cutting  away 
our  frogs  and  pinching  our  heels; — then  put 
on  more  blisters  to  make  a  bad  matter  worse. 

If  we  sprain  our  ankles,  they  tie  us  up  so 
short  we  can  get  no  rest ;  — then  blister  us 
again.  Why  don't  they  know  that  hot  water 
bandages  would  do  us  more  good,  and  not  hurt 
half  so  much  ? 

When  our  teeth  ache  and  are  so  sore  we 
can't  eat,  they  crowd  pills  down  our  throats 
to  give  us  better  appetites. 

When  we  are    not    in    good   condition,    and 


62  FOR  PITY'S  SAKE. 

our  gums  are  swollen,  they  say  our  '  lampers ' 
are  down,  and  sear  the  tender  flesh  with  a 
terrible  red  hot  iron.  Oh !  it  makes  me 
quiver  to  think  of  it  now.  How  would  they 
like  to  be  treated  so  brutally  ? 

They  feed  us  with  musty  hay  mixed  with 
weeds,  briers  and  chaff,  when  the  world  is 
full  of  the  sweet  fresh  grass  that  we  love  so 
well. 

They  give  us  the  same  kind  of  grain  from 
one  year's  end  to  another,  never  thinking  that 
variety  in  food  is  as  good  for  us  as  it  is  for 
them. 

They  stifle  us  by  shutting  us  up  in  air-tight 
boxes. 

They  put  us  in  dark  stalls  where  we  can 
neither  see  nor  speak  to  one  of  our  kind. 

They  give  us  our  death,  in  the  drafts  of  an 
old  ram-shackle  barn  with  gaping  doors  and 
broken  windows. 

They  strap  on  our  blankets  for  the  night, 
pulling  them  so  tight  with  a  jerk  that  it  makes 
us  groan.  Then  we  eat  our  suppers  and  lie 
down  to  rest  Are  we  comfortable  ?  Only  one 
who  has  tried  it,  knows  how  that  tight  strap 
hurts  ;  —  and  only  one  who  has  tried  it,  knows 
what  it  means  to  have  his  skin  scratched  off 
with  a  curry-comb  sharper  than  a  saw. 


FOR  PITY'S  SAXJ-:.  63 

Sometimes  we  have  a  thick  soft  bed  to  lie 
on.  Sometimes  a  thin  sprinkling  of  saw-dust 
is  thought  to  be  all  we  need. 

There  is  no  limit  to  the  abuse  we  surfer  from 
man. 

He  leaves  us  tied  out  in  the  summer  heat 
'till  we  stagger  with  sun-stroke. 

He  shears  off  our  warm  coat  in  winter  and 
we  must  shiver  in  our  nakedness. 

He  stabs  our  sides  with  cruel  spurs  when  a 
word  is  all  we  need  to  call  out  the  best  there  is 
in  us. 

He  carelessly  takes  the  skin  off  our  tongues 
with  frosty  bits  in  cold  weather. 

He  over-works  and  under-feeds  us.  He 
mutilates  and  disfigures  our  bodies  most  shame 
fully. 

Man  forgets  that  we  are  made  of  flesh  and 
blood,  —  muscle  and  nerve  ;  —  that  we  have 
lungs,  brains,  and  hearts,  with  needs  similar  to 
his  own.  * 

He  ought  to  know  that  we  can  feel  and 
suffer,  both  in  body  and  mind,  —  and  that  kind 
words  make  better  servants  of  us  than  curses. 

When  at  last,  the  horse  is  worn  out  before 
his  time  by  this  hard  life;  —  when  he  has 
earned  a  few  months'  rest  and  a  decent 
burial  ;  —  what  next  ?  Then  comes  the  hardest 


64  FOR  PITY'S  SAKE. 

cut  of  all.  He  is  sold  for  a  trifle  to  be  hacked 
about,  dragging  loads  of  old  junk,  rags,  or  gar 
bage  ;  until,  only  a  pitiful  rack  of  bones,  he  is 
driven  to  the  slaughter  house  or  the  soap 
factory. 

Does  man  knoiv  that  a  bullet  through  the 
brain  of  a  horse  will  end  the  life  that  is  in  him  ? 

Does  he  know  that  dumb  creatures  in  this 
world  will  not  yet  be  able  to  speak  and  accuse 
those  who  have  abused  them  ?  The  mystery 
of  our  life  is  as  great  to  him  as  is  that  of  his 
own. 

Man  knows  that  it  is  his  duty  here  to  care 
for  the  helpless.  God  pity  him  when  he  is 
called  to  give  an  account  of  his  stewardship. 

I  have  drawn  a  doleful  picture,  and  it  is  all 
true.  But  it  is  not  the  whole  truth.  If  there 
were  not  a  brighter  side  we  might  well  lie 
down  in  despair.  Human  nature  is  not  all  in 
human.  Everywhere  there  are  noble  men  and 
women  who  *are  fighting  our  battles,  and  work 
ing  to  right  our  wrongs.  They  find  it  up  hill 
work  ;  but  they  are  made  of  good  stuff  :  they 
have  the  courage  that  will  conquer  in  the  end. 
The  good  time  is  coming  when  the  abuse  of 
our  race  will  be  the  exception  and  not  the  rule. 

Think  of  that,  Ned  !  until  you  go  to  sleep 
and  dream  that  we  are  all  together  in  a  great 


Y'V\S'  SAKE.  65 


green  pasture  :  That  a  sparkling  brook  runs 
through  it  which  is  never  dry  :  That  great  cool, 
spreading  shade  trees  are  scattered  all  about  ; 
That  there  is  no  iron  in  our  mouths  or  on  our 
feet  :  That  you  have  your  beautiful  tail  again, 
and  that  we  are  all  comfortable,  happy  and 
free." 

There  was  dead  silence  for  a  minute  after 
Madame  ceased  speaking.  Then  the  stir  and 
rustle  along  the  line  of  stalls  told  me  that  the 
horses  were  making  ready  to  rest  for  the  re 
maining  hours  of  the  night.  Tobey's  moans 
had  ceased,  so  I  knew  that  the  poor  little  fellow 
had  forgotten  his  misery  in  blessed  sleep. 

I  have  tried  to  give  this  conversation  in  the 
exact  words  of  the  animals,  which  seemed  to  be 
indellibly  impressed  upon  my  memory.  I 
learned  much  more,  incidentally;  receiving  im 
pressions  in  a  manner  that  I  cannot  explain. 

Madame  was  many  years  older  than  her 
companions,  and  was  evidently  beloved  by  them 
all.  She  had  known  hard  knocks  in  her  life, 
but  now  her  days  were  passing  in  quiet  com 
fort,  and  she  felt  secure  in  her  trust  that  the 
good  friends  who  cared  for  her,  would  never 
suffer  her  to  be  left  to  the  mercy  of  the  cold 
world  again.  Her  sympathies  were  so  keen 
that  she  made  the  sorrows  of  those  about  her, 


UNIVE1 


66  FOR  PITY'S  SAKE. 

her  own.  They  poured  their  grievances  into 
her  ear,  and  consulted  her  as  the  oracle  of  the 
stable.  I  felt  the  deference  shown  her  in  the 
impressive  silence  while  she  was  speaking  ;  and 
in  the  few  murmured  words  that  followed,  as 
they  were  settling  for  the  night. 

I  had  scarcely  thought  of  myself,  —  until 
now,  I  realized  that  I  was  a  prisoner ;  —  that 
I  must  stay  where  I  was  until  doors  were  un 
locked  in  the  morning.  I  had  no  fear,  although 
I  was  often  timid  in  a  less  startling  situation. 
My  sense  of  companionship  was  so  strong,  that 
had  I  analyzed  my  feelings,  I  should  doubtless 
have  discovered  that  I  regarded  my  fellow- 
prisoners  as  my  protectors.  Had  I  called  out 
in  fright,  I  am  sure  I  should  have  been  sur 
prised  if  none  of  those  great  four-footed 
creatures  (tied  fast  in  their  stalls)  had  rushed 
to  my  assistance. 

I  had  listened  with  intense  eagerness  to  all 
that  occurred,  forgetting  my  own  weariness  in 
the  excitement  of  my  strange  position  and 
stranger  experience.  The  inevitable  reaction 
followed ;  and  I  joined  the  sleepers,  to  dream 
of  green  pastures,  running  brooks,  and  pranc 
ing  steeds  at  liberty,  with  no  man  to  molest  or 
make  them  afraid. 


" I  shall  not  pass  this  way  but  once,  so  let  me 
do  all  the  good  I  can,  to  man  and  beast." 

"0,  the  good  that  we  may  do,  as  the  days 
are  going  by." 


••  Pray,  my  dear  friend,  remember  that  there  is 
every  provision,  the  world  over,  for  the  suffer- 
in":  of  our  own  race,  and  but  little  for  the  patient 
faithful,  speechless  servants  who  devote  their          s 
lives  to  us." 

(S.  Morris  Wain.} 


IV. 

•"We  think  our  civilization  is  near  its  meridian,  but 
we  are  yet  only  at  the  cock-crowing  and  the 
morning  star." 

I  waked  at  early  dawn.  On  opening  my 
eyes  I  at  first  looked  about  in  a  sort  of  stupe 
fied  wonder.  For  a  time  my  sensations  were 
confused  and  uncertain.  Then,  as  if  a  flash 
light  had  been  thrown  upon  my  consciousness, 
the  whole  picture  stood  out  distinctly  before 
me.  I  looked  upon  it  as  a  reality  and  in  no 
sense  the  freak  of  a  dreamer's  fancy. 

I  stepped  lightly  through  the  great  open 
door  and  glanced  at  the  long  row  of  horses  in 
the  stalls.  Most  of  them  were  still  asleep ; 
although  a  few  turned  their  heads  at  the  sound 
of  an  unwonted  foot-step,  and  looked  as  if  sur 
prised  at  the  intrusion.  I  hurriedly  caught  up 
an  old  battered  tin  that  was  lying  upon  the 
floor,  filled  it  with  water  from  a  pump  in  the 
stable,  and  placed  it  by  the  side  of  a  little  dog 
that  was  tied  in  one  of  the  stalls.  I  then  ran 
to  an  open  window,  which  I  found  to  my  de 
light  was  so  low  that  I  could  easily  slip  out  and 
drop  to  the  ground.  This  accomplished,  1 
walked  slowly  towards  the  house  looking  about 


68  FOR  PITY'S  SAKE. 

me  as  if  thinking  only  of  the  glory  of  the 
morning,  as  the  rising  sun  flecked  the  land 
scape  with  golden  light. 

The  side  door  of  the  house  was  open,  — 
servants  were  stirring  in  the  kitchen.  A 
colored  man  who  was  polishing  boots  at  a 
quaint  old  table  in  the  hall,  eyed  me  curiously 
as  he  politely  bade  me  good  morning.  I 
stopped  a  moment  to  examine  the  odd,  antique 
table,  which  was  worthy  a  better  fate,  then 
passed  on  up  to  my  room,  —  put  out  the  light 
which  was  still  burning,  disarranged  the  bed, 
and  when  the  gong  sounded  for  breakfast,  I 
was  ready  with  the  earliest.  I  must  have 
looked  painfully  conscious  when  I  asked  the 
clerk  if  our  horses  were  in  good  condition  to 
go  on.  He  said  that  they  had  evidently  been 
driven  harder  than  we  ladies  realized,  but  the 
distance  to  Boston  wasn't  great,  and  they  would 
go  through  all  right  if  we  took  time  enough. 
He  also  told  me  that  they  would  travel  much 
more  easily  if  their  heads  were  dropped  to  a 
comfortable  position  ;  that  there  was  no  neces 
sity  of  worrying  such  a  quiet,  well-intentioned 
pair  by  checking  them  so  high.  I  knew  I 
blushed  crimson.  Did  he  think  I  was  a  merci 
less  wretch  ?  Or,  like  hosts  of  others,  crim 
inally  ignorant  and  thoughtless  ?  I  swore  in 


FOR  PITY'S  SAKE.  69 

my  heart,  then  and  there,  that  never  again 
should  dumb  creature  have  occasion  to  accuse 
me  of  causing  it  needless  suffering. 

After  a  little  thought  I  decided  to  stay  over 
another  day.  I  wished  to  return  the  horses  to 
the  owner  in  as  good  condition  as  possible,  and 
I  confess  that  my  desire  to  hear  the  "  Tales  of 
a  Wayside  Inn "  had  some  weight  in  my 
decision.  This  matter  settled,  I  joined  a  party 
of  ladies  who  were  busy  with  fancy  work  on 
the  veranda.  Others  were  there  making  ready 
for  a  morning  drive,  and  among  the  teams  that 
came  to  the  door,  a  handsome  snow-white  horse 
and  low,  light  phaeton  attracted  my  attention. 
I  made  some  remark  about  the  striking  white 
ness  of  the  horse  to  a  lady  who  sat  near  me. 

"  Oh  ! "  said  the  little  woman  as  she  looked 
up  from  her  embroidery,  "  That  old  white 
beauty  is  quite  a  character  here.  She  has  a 
history.  You've  been  to  Salem,  haven't  you  ?  " 
And  without  giving  me  a  chance  to  tell  her 
whether  I  had  or  not,  she  ran  on  :  "  Salem  is 
the  nicest,  quaintest  place,  —  it  has  lots  of  old 
Colonial  mansions  filled  with  the  most  beautiful 
antique  furniture  and  the  loveliest  old  china 
you  ever  saw  ;  and  the  aristocratic  families 
there  can  trace  their  ancestry  back  to  Adam. 
People  show  you  the  houses  where  the  witches 


/o  FOR  PITY'S  SAKE. 

lived,  —  the  place  where  they  were  hung,  — 
and  the  very  pins  they  stuck  into  their  victims 
when  they  bewitched  them.  I  got  the  sweetest 
witch  souvenir  spoon  when  I  was  there.  I  saw 
the  house  where  Hawthorne  was  born,  —  the 
House  of  Seven  Gables,  —  the  first  church  ever 
built  in  this  country,  —  and  Oh!  I  can  never 
tell  all  the  interesting  places  and  things. 

I  began  to  tell  you  about  the  white  horse, 
didn't  I  ?  Well  !  she  belonged  to  one  of  those 
old  Salem  families,  —  lived  in  luxury,  —  and 
never  did  any  harder  work  than  just  taking  the 
old  gentleman  and  his  wife  out  for  an  airing  on 
fine  days.  They  made  a  perfect  pet  of  her. 
She  used  to  put  her  head  into  the  dining-room 
window  and  eat  sweetmeats  out  of  the  old  lady's 
hand.  Those  good  people  died  within  a  few 
days  of  each  other,  and  their  fine  estate  went 
to  distant  heirs  who  didn't  care  a  pin  for  any 
thing  except  the  money  it  would  bring.  This 
dear  pet  of  the  family  was  left  standing  in  her 
stall.  I  think  people  who  keep  pets  ought  to- 
make  provision  for  them  in  their  wills  !  Don't 
you  ?  She  was  nothing  to  the  heirs  but  an  old 
white  horse,  so  she  was  sold  with  other  goods 
and  chattels  at  auction.  Wasn't  it  pitiful  ? 

While  the  sale  was   going  on  a  tin  peddler 
drove   up  and  —  would  you   believe  it  ?  he  bid 


Cruelty  to  dumb  animals  is  one  of  the  most 
(listiniruisliinir  vices  of  the  lowest  and  basest  of 
the  people.  Whenever  it  is  found,  it  is  a  CCf- 
taiu  mark  of  ignorance  and  meanness — an 
intrinsic  mark  which  all  the  external  advantairf- 
of  wealth,  splendor  and  nobility  cannot  obliterate 
It  will  consist  neither  with  true  learning  nor 
true  civility,  and  religion  disclaims  and  detests 
it  as  an  insult  upon  the  majesty  and  goodness 
of  God,  who,  having  made  'the  instincts  of 
brute  beasts  minister  to  the  improvement  of 
the  mind,  as  well  as  to  the  convenience  of  the 
body,  hath  furnished  us  with  a  motive  to  mercy 
and  compassion  toward  them  very  strong  and 
powerful  IN  | 

/,»//  thi>  Saintly  Divine,  "Jones  of  Naylanff*) 


A  man  of  kindness  to  his  beast  is  kind, 
But  brutal  actions  show  a  brutal  mind  : 
Remember,  He  who  made  thee,  made  the  brute, 
Who  gave    thee  speech  and  reason,  made  him 

mute. 

lie  can't  complain,  but  God's  all-seeing  eye, 
Beholds  THY  cruelty  and  hears  ins  cry. 
He  was  designed  thy  friend  and  servant,  not 

thy  drudge, 
And  know  that  his  Creator  is  thy  Judge. 


A  Vision. 


When   'twixt  the  drawn   forces  of  Night  and 

Morning, 
Strange  visions  steal  down  to  the   slumbers   of 

men; 
From  heaven's  bright  stronghold  once  issued  a 

warning, 
Which  baffled  all  scorning,  when  brought  to  my 

ken. 
Methought  tnere  descended  the  Saints  and  the 

Sages, 
With  grief-stricken  aspects  and   wringing   of 

hands, 
Till  Dreamland  seemed  filled  with  the   anguish 

of  ages, 

The  blots  of  Time's  pages,  the  woes  of  all  lands. 
And  I,  who  had  dreamed  that  their   bliss   knew 

no  sorrow 
(Half  vexed  with  their  advent,  half  awed   with 

their  might) — 
Cried, "Come  ye  from  heaven,  Earth's  aspect  to 

borrow, 
To  mar  with   wierd   sorrow   the  peace   of   the 

night?" 
They  answered  me  sternly,  "Thy  knowledge   is 

mortal ; 
Thou  hear'st  not  as  we  must,  the  plants  without 

tongue : 
The  wrongs  that   come   beating   the  crystaline 

portal, 

Inflicted  by  mortals  on  those  who  are  dumb. 
They  crumble  to  dust ;    but   we,    watchers    re 
maining, 

Attest  their  endurance  through  centuries   long, 
Oh,  fear !  lest  in  future  to  judgment  attaining, 
These   lives,    uncomplaining,    wax   awful    and 

strono-."  Julia  Verplanek 


Sir  Henry  Taylor  has  written  noble  lines  on 
this  matter — vivisection — going  deep  into   the 
heart  of  the  question  : — 
"Pain,  terror,  mortal  agonies  that  scare 
Thy  heart  in  man,  to  brutes  these  wilt  not  spare, 
Are  theirs  less  sad  and  real?  Pain  in  man 
Bears  the  high  mission  of  the  flail  and  fan 
In  brutes  'tis  purely  piteous." 


FOR  PITY'S  SAKE.  73 

her  off  for  half  what  she  was  worth,  then  sold 
his  own  poor,  lame,  half-blind  horse  to  some  one 
in  the  crowd  for  fifteen  dollars,  —  took  the  high 
bred  creature  right  out  of  her  gilt-edged  stall, — 
hitched  her  to  the  heavy  old  tin-cart  and  drove 
away.  For  months  she  had  to  drag  the  heavy 
load  around  the  country  until  she  was  more 
dead  than  alive,  when  the  man  who  owns  her 
now,  bought  her  out  of  sheer  pity.  He  says  he 
knew  she  was  a  born  lady  the  first  time  he  saw 
her.  He  turned  her  out  to  pasture,  nursed  her 
up,  and  now  old  as  she  is,  she  is  a  prize. 

Her  owner's  daughter,  you  see,  is  an  invalid, 
although  she  is  better  this  summer  than  she 
has  been  for  years.  The  father  says  that 
'  Madame '  has  done  her  more  good  than  doc 
tors  and  nurses.  The  old  creature  is  so  gentle 
that  a  baby  could  drive  her  ;  and  this  sick  girl 
goes  off  alone  with  her  into  the  piney  woods, 
and  up  on  the  hill-tops  for  views,  —  Oh  !  you 
ought  to  stay  here  a  month  and  take  all  the 
lovely  drives,  and  see  the  grand  views  about 
here."  I  was  quite  willing  that  the  voluble 
little  woman  should  stop  here  for  breath ; 
although  glad  to  know  this  bit  of  the  history  of 
a  creature  that  had  interested  me  so  deeply. 

While  she  was  talking,  a  lady  who  had  been 
to  the  station  to  take  a  friend  to  an  early  train, 


74  FOR  PITY'S  SAKE. 

drove  up  to  the  door.  Her  horse  was  as  strik 
ingly  black  as  the  other  one  was  white.  I 
looked  on  in  surprise  as  she  sprang  lightly  out 
of  the  buggy,  threw  the  reins  over  the  dasher, 
said,  "  Go  on,  Beauty,"  and  walked  quickly  into 
the  house,  leaving  the  horse  to  go  to  the  stable 
alone.  The  yard  was  full  of  carriages  which 
had  been  run  out  to  be  brushed  and  dusted 
outside.  The  horse,  carefully  threading  his 
way  among  them  reached  the  stable  door  with 
out  touching  even  the  tips  of  the  shafts  that 
pointed  in  every  direction.  It  was  done  with  a 
skill  that  a  good  driver  might  have  been  proud 
of. 

Another  horse  was  then  brought  to  the  door 
and  left  standing  at  a  post.  Little  as  I  knew 
about  such  things  I  could  not  fail  to  notice  that 
this  was  a  peculiar  turnout.  The  open  buggy 
was  as  light  as  a  cockle-shell.  The  little  horse, 
every  inch  alive,  looked  as  if  spurning  the 
earth  he  might  almost  go  flying  through  the 
air.  I  said  to  a  lady  near  me, 

"  Somebody  must  have  forgotten  to  put  that 
horse's  harness  on." 

She  answered  laughing,  "  Oh  !  he  never  wears 
more  than  half  the  usual  trappings.  The  man 
who  drives  him  doesn't  believe  in  burdening  a 
horse  with  what  is  useless.  You  see  he  has  no 


FOR  PITY'S  SAKE.  75 

blinders,  no  martingale,  no  check-rein,  no  hold 
backs  ;  still  he  has  all  that  is  required  for  the 
work  that  he  has  to  do.  Of  course,  if  he  had  a 
heavy  load  to  hold  going  down  hill,  he  wouldn't 
be  harnessed  in  that  style.  He  is  fixed  now 
for  a  spin  on  the  road  and  has  nothing  on  to 
hamper  him.  That  little  fellow  has  '  held  the 
road  '  here  as  the  horse  men  say,  for  ten  years  ; 
and  he  enjoys  a  trot  just  as  much  as  the  man 
does  that  drives  him." 

Strange,  how  all  things  were  conspiring  to 
teach  me  a  lesson  that  I  needed.  It  had 
dawned  upon  my  mind  that  dumb  animals  have 
a  human  side. 

Speak  for  the  Dumb. 

Inscribed      to      The      American     Humane 
Association. 

Speak  for  the  dumb,  ye  that  have  tongues, 
Plead  for  the  wronged,  ye  that  have  hearts, 

Arrest  and  overthrow  of  wrongs 
Are  holiest  of  human  arts. 

The  Great  All-Father  loveth  all, 
Revealing  pity  by  His  deeds, 

Providing  for  both  great  and  small, 
Anticipating  all  their  needs. 

How  blessed  are  the  merciful 
The  Great  Redeemer's  lips  attest, 

Declaring  that  each  pitying  soul 
Is  kindred  to  the  spirits  blest. 

Who  soothes  a  pang,  or  calms  a  grief, 
Or  shields  the  innocent  from  wrong, 

Shall  find  in  Heaven  his  sweet  relief, 
And  share  with  angels  in  their  song. 
Providence,  R.  I.  RKV.  F.  DBNISOX. 


It  is  God=Iike  to  protect  those  who  can 
not  protect  themselves. 


V. 

"  Yes,  well  your  story  pleads  the  cause 
Of  those  dumb  mouths  that  have  no  speech. 
Only  a  cry  from  each  to  each 
In  its  own  kind,  with  its  own  laws ; 
Something  that  is  beyond  the  reach 
Of  human  power  to  learn  or  teach, — 
An  inarticulate  moan  of  pain, 
Like  the  immeasurable  main 
Breaking  upon  an  unknown  beach." 

Again,  at  twilight,  the  guests  assembled  on 
the  veranda  for  the  evening  talk.  The  strangers 
who  had  before  listened  from  the  outside,  were 
now  seated  within  the  charmed  circle.  My 
thoughts  were  burdened  with  the  strange  ex 
perience  of  the  night,  but  I  could  not  speak  of 
it.  It  was  so  mysterious,  so  inexplicable,  that 
I  could  only  ponder  it  in  my  heart  in  silence. 

Miss  Kate,  who  had  proposed  this  evening's 
entertainment,  was  called  upon  to  speak  first. 

"  Wait  a  minute,  please,"  said  Harry.  "  Here 
comes  the  coach,  I'll  make  Joe  open  this  ball 
for  us  without  knowing  what  he  is  doing." 

"  Hallo  !  Joe,  what  was  it  about  your  acci 
dent  the  other  day  ?  Did  your  horses  really 
get  away  from  you  ?  "  called  out  Harry  as  the 
coach  drew  up  before  the  door. 


FOR  PITY'S  SAKE.  77 

"My  accident,"  said  Joe.  "  It  wa'nt  no  acci 
dent  of  mine  —  but  'twas  mighty  hard  on  my 
team,  though.  Golly  !  I  ha'nt  turned  round 
for  two  weeks  without  runnin'  up  agin  some 
body  who's  asked  me  about  my  accident.  It 
makes  me  want  to  chuck  them  boys  into  the 
middle  of  the  river  and  leave  'em  to  get  out 
as  they  can.  I  didn't  have  a  ghost  of  a  chance 
to  stop  it  —  jest  had  to  look  on  and  see  the 
whole  thing  go  to  destruction. 

You  see,  I  stopped  over  there  to  Miss 
Plumb's  and  had  to  go  up  two  flights  after  a 
trunk.  'Twas  all  right  to  leave  'em  alone,  for 
you  know,  old  coach  hosses'll  most  gener'ly 
stan'  still  faster'n  they'll  go,  —  and  I  knew 
these  fellers  wouldn't  move  out  o'  their  tracks 
of  their  own  accord,  if  I  stayed  long  enough  to 
pack  the  trunk  'fore  I  brought  it  down.  An'  I 
vow,  I  didn't  s'pose  there  was  anything  on 
earth  that  could  scare  'em.  I  was  pretty  well 
knocked,  you  bet,  when  I  come  out,  and  saw 
'em  tearin'  down  street  as  if  Satan  was  at  their 
heels  ;  the  old  coach  bobbin'  up  an'  down  like  a 
rubber  ball.  They  were  headed  for  the  stable, 
but  I  knew  somethin'  had  got  to  crack  'fore  they 
got  there,  —  an'  there  did.  Gee  Whittaker  \ 
Didn't  they  go  round  that  corner  like  a  blue 
streak  ?  You  couldn't  see  nothin'  for  dust. 


78  FOR  PITY'S  SAKE. 

There's  the  cussedest  lot  of  boys  over  in 
Bull  Dog  Alley  you  ever  see,  —  in  this  town  or 
any  other.  They  got  hold  of  a  little  dog,  — 
a  good  for  nothin'  innocent  little  cur  —  never 
done  any  harm  in  his  life,  —  but  them  scalla- 
vvags  jest  bothered  and  tormented  him  a  while, 
and  then  finished  up  by  tyin'  a  tin  kittle  to 
his  tail,  and  let  him  go.  They  thought  'twas 
good  fun,  but  I  reckon  they  laughed  out  o'  the 
other  corner  o'  their  mouths  'fore  they  got 
through  with  the  job. 

The  little  feller  run,  howlin'  and  yelpin'  — 
scared  to  death  —  right  under  my  coach  and 
between  my  bosses'  legs.  The  dog  wa'nt  to 
blame  —  the  bosses  wa'nt  to  blame — but 
them  boys  deserved  a  good  lickin'  and  I  guess 
some  on  'em  got  it  that  night  ;  —  but  that 
didn't  pay  fifty  dollars  for  gettin'  my  coach 
mended  —  nor  for  lamin'  old  Jim  so  I  couldn't 
drive  him  for  two  weeks.  You'd  better  b'lieve 
them  boys  won't  play  that  game  on  me  again, 
for  a  shameder  lookin'  crowd  I  never  see  in  my 
life,  after  they  found  out  what  they'd  done. 

The  Boss  tried  to  get  some  payfor  damages 
•out  of  their  fathers  and  mothers  ;  but  you  know 
sich  trash  never  has  any  money,  so  he  had  to 
stand  the  racket  himself.  I  make  'em  sorryer 
day,  for  they  don't  get  any  more  rides  on 


Fi:i  KMAN,  the  noted  Kii^lNh  historian  :m<l 
noble  humanitarian,  justly  declared,  "that  the 
awful  wrongs  and  suHerinirs  forced  upon  the 
innocent,  helpless,  faithful  animal  race  forms 
the  blackest  chapter  in  the  fit,,/,  ,/•,,/•/</'*  A/.s7o/-//.' 


They  are  >la\  es  who  fear  to  speak 

For  the  fallen  and  the  weak ; 

They  are  slaves  who  will  not  choose 

Hatred,  scoffing  and  abuse. 

Rather  than  in  silence  shrink 

From  the  truth  they  needs  must  think. 

They  are  slaves  who  dare  not  be 

In  the  ritfht  with  two  or  three. 


(Loir  I'll) 


The  famous,  rich,  and  powerful  Duke  of 
Portland  (Master-of-Horse  to  the  Queen),  who 
is  devotedly  fond  of  animals,  and  one  of  the 
leaders  in  the  Animal  Cause  in  England — has 
lately  discarded  all  check-reins  in  his  great 
stables  and  the  Queen  has  followed  suit.  We 
hope  these  illustrious  examples  will  be  emu 
lated  by  the  rich  and  influential  of  America 
also,  those  who  love  and  follow  all  English 
fashions,  who  idiotically  use  the  tight  check, 
"an  instrument  of  torture  and  device  of 
satan"  as  noted  English  authorities  well  term 
it.  The  Duke  and  Duchess  are  foremost  in  all 
the  great  and  noble  Animal  reforms  of  the  day. 
The  Duke  has  famous  racing  horses,  but  never 
allows  whip  or  spur  to  be  used  on  them,  to  his 
great  credit,  for  he  asserts  that  his  horses 
shall  win  on  their  own  natural  merits,  if  at 
all.  Would  that  all  the  world  followed  his 
wise  manly  and  noble  example. 


One  feels  when  reading  an  account  of  the 
horrors  perpetrated  in  the  vivisectionist's  labo 
ratories  that  if  those  experimentalists  would 
leave  the  lower  animals  (as  they  are  called) 
alone  and  would  vivisect  eacli  other,  society  and 
science  would  be  all  the  better  for  the  change, 
and  what  is  now  sickening  literature,  and  noth 
ing  else,  would  become  in  the  hands  of  a  graphic 
chronicler  as  interesting  as  the  account  of  a 
trial  for  murder  in  France  or  a  description  of  a 
Chinese  execution.  (English paper) 


CeMT3-'-;i        O>      C      £      O      «     <M      O 

20SS£.22t^°:3 


+a   «   3  *12  S   c"  JS    8**l  -S  1  >5   e  •*     •  »  -3   ^  2        tffe^a**^S9 


FOR  PITY'S  SAKE.  79 

my  rack.  I  '11  give  the  fust  one  that  tries  it  a 
cut  that  he  won't  forgit  in  a  hurry." 

Here  the  clerk  coming  to  the  door,  called 
out  "train  time  "  to  Joe,  — who  quickly  turned 
and  hurried  away. 

Harry  laughingly  said,  "Number  One  — 
Coachman's  Tale  —  not  on  the  program.  You 
will  please  credit  it  to  me.  Now,  Miss  Kate, 
begging  your  pardon,  we  are  ready  for  Number 
Two." 

FROM    MY    WINDOW. 

"  I  am  simply  going  to  tell  you  what  I  have 
seen  and  heard  from  the  windows  in  my  room. 

I  came  out  here  early  in  the  spring  and  chose 
the  room  solely  for  the  grand  distant  view.  It 
is  on  the  third  floor  at  the  extreme  end  of  the 
L.  It  is  large  and  low-posted,  with  windows 
west  and  north  overlooking  a  beautiful  country  ; 
the  scene  bounded  by  a  horizon  line  of  moun 
tains.  Wachuset,  Monadnoc,  Joe  English, 
Crotchet  Mountain,  the  Uncanunucks,  Kear- 
sarge,  and  many  others  are  in  sight,  and  have 
greeted  me  every  clear  morning  throughout  the 
season.  The  sunsets,  too,  have  been  glorious 
beyond  description.  All  this  I  had  a  faint  ex 
pectation  of  before  I  came  ;  but  it  was  left  for 
me  to  discover  that  the  fore-ground  of  this 


8o  FOR  PITY'S  SAKE. 

grand  scene,  the  field  behind  the  house  and 
stable,  would  furnish  me  with  entertainment  all 
summer.  From  my  western  window  I  have 
had  such  an'  opportunity  to  study  horses,  dogs, 
cats,  cows  and  birds,  as  I  never  had  before  in 
my  life.  I  have  improved  my  time  '  observing ' 
on  these  lines,  and  believe  it  has  been  well 
spent. 

Early  in  the  season  the  birds  fascinated  me 
so  that  I  could  do  little  but  watch  them.  The 
bobolinks  were  here,  dressed  in  their  beautiful 
'  courting-suits.'  They  sang  on  the  topmost 
twigs  of  the  trees,  or  when  flying  through  the 
air,  till  they  seemed  to  be  bewitched  by  their 
own  mad  music.  Now  and  then  a  flash  of 
color  told  where  an  oriole  or  a  blue-bird  was 
darting  through  the  trees.  There  is  an  oriole's 
nest  now  hanging  on  a  limb  not  very  far  from 
my  window.  I  can  see  a  bit  of  hamburg  edg 
ing  on  one  side  and  a  needle  suspended  from  it 
by  a  long  white  thread. 

There  were  vireos,  cat-birds,  red-winged 
black  birds,  swallows  and  hosts  of  others  ;  to 
say  nothing  of  robins  and  the  dear  little  song 
sparrows,  galore.  Yellow-hammers,  I  am  told, 
have  built  their  nests  within  ten  rods  of  the 
house  for  years.  I  have  often  heard  the  notes 
•of  whip-poor-will  and  quail  in  the  distance ;  but 


FOR  PITY'S  SAKE.  81 

the  sweetest  and  most  interesting  of  all,  were 
the  little  humming-birds  that  built  their  nest 
and  reared  their  family  high  up  in  this  horse- 
chestnut  in  front  of  the  house.  From  an  upper 
room  one  could  see  the  long  bills  of  the  hungry 
nestlings  when  the  old  birds  hovered  over 
them  with  food.  This  room  was  occupied  by  a 
lady  from  New  York,  who  watched  this  tiny 
bird  family  with  great  interest.  After  the  nest 
was  deserted,  the  little  twig  that  held  it  was 
carefully  cut  from  the  tree,  and  she  took  the 
dainty  thing  home  with  her  to  show  to  her  city 
friends. 

All  the  animals  on  the  place  take  their  out 
ings  in  this  field  that  I  spoke  of.  I  have 
studied  the  horses  until  I  think  I  know  their 
individual  dispositions,  and  something  of  their 
ideas  of  things.  There  are  three  old  coach 
horses  in  use,  so  each  one  of  them  has  a  few 
hours  off  every  day.  One  of  these  ancient  and 
honorable  beings,  always  comes  out  of  the 
stable  on  the  fly, —  goes  three  times  around  the 
field  without  stopping, — head  and  tail  in  the  air. 
Forgetting  the  dreariness  of  his  life,  he  looks 
as  if  he  might  bring  a  small  fortune  if  sold  for 
a  trotter.  Then  he  settles  quietly  down  to 
feeding  and  loses  no  more  time.  The  other 
two  seem  to  take  supreme  satisfaction  in  roll- 


82 


FOR  PITY'S  SAKE. 


ing,  before  they  devote  themselves  to  feeding 
on  the  grass. 

The  stranger  horses  that  come  in  from    long 
drives,  in  nearly  every   case,  stand  still  for   a 
few  minutes  looking  in    every  direction,   as  if 
trying    to    realize   that    they    are    free.     Then 
they    slowly    walk    around, 
select  a  level  spot,  and  treat 
themselves    to    such    a 
roll  that  it  does  one 
good     to    watch 
them.     After 
that      comes 
the  grass,  un 
til     they   are 
taken    in    re 
freshed   both 
in    body   and 
soul.     There 
is  a  trotter  in  the 
stable  that  is  my 

especial  delight.  When  he  takes  his  turn  I 
always  wish  my  room  was  a  grand  stand,  and  I 
had  a  crowd  there  to  see  him.  I  don't  enjoy 
trotting,  when  there  is  a  jockey  behind,  holding 
whip  and  rein  ;  but  to  see  that  graceful  creat 
ure,  free  as  the  wind,  trotting  simply  for  the 
love  of  it,  is  an  inspiration.  One  day  I  leaned 


FOR  PITY'S  SAKE.  83 

far  out  on  the  window-sill,  shouted  and  waved 
my  handkerchief.  I  am  sure  he  understood  it, 
for  after  a  round  or  two,  he  stopped  and  looked 
towards  me,— 

"  Smiled  and  bowed,"  interrupted   Harry  be 
fore  Miss  Kate  could  finish  her  sentence. 

0  "  As  you  like  it,"  she  replied,  "  It  wouldn't 
have  surprised  me  if  he  had.  I  have  all  my  life 
been  used  to  seeing  jaded  animals  wearily 
dragging  street-cars  ;  patient  team  horses 
struggling  to  back  great  carts  into  narrow 
alleys ;  scared  creatures  rushed  about  within 
an  inch  of  their  lives  by  grocery  boys  ;  and  the 
noble  beasts  of  fashion  bitted  and  checked  to 
the  verge  of  mortal  agony.  It  gave  me  a  new 
sensation  to  know  that  a  horse  could  lead  a 
happy  life,  and  show  it  so  clearly. 

Midget,  one  of  the  ponies,  often  runs  in  the 
field  from  morning  till  night.  His  life's  work 
has  so  far,  been  chiefly  play.  He  is  as  full  of 
fun  and  mischief  as  some  small  boys  that  I 
know,  and  he  shows  it  in  much  the  same  way. 
I  saw  him  steal  up  behind  old  Baldy  one  day- 
give  him  a  sharp  nip  —  then  run  away  as  fast 
as  he  could.  Midget  did  this  two  or  three 
times  ;  but  Baldy's  one  idea  was  to  get  as  much 
grass  as  possible  so  he  didn't  even  lift  his  head. 
The  pony,  growing  bolder,  bit  so  savagely  that 


84  FOR  PITY'S  SAKE. 

the  old  fellow  evidently  thought  it  time  to  stop 
it.  He  started  after  the  little  rascal  so  furi 
ously  that  Midget  had  to  scamper  to  get  out  of 
his  way.  The  horse  went  on  feeding,  but  I 
could  see  by  the  pony's  maneuvers  that  he  was 
planning-  another  attack.  Watching  him  closely, 
I  knew  the  method  was  clear  in  his  mind, 
when  he  fearlessly  took  a  bee  line  for  Baldy 
and  nipped  him  hard  as  before. 

You  would  have  laughed  to  see  the  funny 
race.  Midget  going  for  all  he  was  worth 
straight  to  the  spot  he  started  from  —  Baldy 
close  to  his  heels.  When  the  pony  reached 
the  fence,  I  was  amazed  to  see  him  lie  down 
flat,  roll  under,  then  deliberately  get  up  and 
shake  himself  on  the  other  side.  I  was  so 
much  interested  in  the  affair  that  I  ran  out, 
and  found  there  was  quite  a  little  hollow^  in 
the  ground  which  gave  him  ample  room  to 
roll  under,  only  in  that  one  spot.  I  tried  to 
make  him  go  back  the  same  way,  but  no  !  — 
he  wouldn't  understand  my  meaning.  He 
looked  as  innocent  as  old  Baldy  did  surprised. 
A  man  from  the  stable  had  to  go  out  and  lead 
him  around  through  the  gate. 

You  know  the  old  well  in  the  field,  where 
the  pump  and  the  tub  make  such  a  pretty  pic 
ture  under  the  apple-tree  ?  One  morning  Midget 


FOR  PITY'S  SAKE.  85 

went  for  a  drink,  but  the  tub  was  dry.  He 
shook  his  shaggy  mane  and  stamped  as  if 
angry,  then  mounted  the  platform,  took  the 
pump-handle  in  his  mouth  and  worked  it  all 
ways  but  the  right  one,  up  and  down.  I  think 
in  time  he  would  have  mastered  the  difficulty, 
but  while  I  was  watching  him,  a  man  went  out 
to  fill  the  tub,  so  there  was  no  need  of  further 
taxing  his  ingenuity. 

I  must  tell  you  about  the  most  novel  funeral 
procession  that  I  ever  saw.  Early  in  the  sum 
mer  a  colt  died  in  the  stable.  A  grave  was 
dug  for  the  poor  little  fellow  out  in  the  farthest 
corner  of  the  field.  The  dead  colt  was  drawn 
out  of  the  stable  on  a  low-wheeled  drag,  by  a 
pair  of  horses.  The  loose  horses  had  been 
taken  in,  as  such  an  unusual  affair  might  be 
too  exciting.  No  one  thought  that  the  'stupid 
cows  '  would  take  the  least  notice  of  what  was 
going  on.  Five  or  six  cows  were  there  quietly 
grazing.  All  of  them  looked  up  as  if  to  see 
what  sort  of  a  conveyance  was  coming  —  then 
with  one  accord  ran  towards  it,  —  fell  into  line 
single  file,  —  followed  the  remains  to  their  last 
resting  place,  — and  stood  there  in  as  quiet  and 
decorous  a  manner  as  any  company  of  mourn 
ers,  until  all  was  over.  It  was  most  pathetic, 


86  FOR  PITY'S  SAKE. 

as  well  as  one  of  the  oddest  proceedings  I  ever 
witnessed. 

Down  in  the  wood-shed,  three  stories  below 
my  window,  there  is  a  very  interesting  cat 
family.  Old  cats,  middle  aged  cats,  young 
cats  and  kittens  have  their  fun  in  the  back 
yard  ;  and  it  is  fun  for  me  to  watch  them.  The 
cats  are  the  special  pets  of  the  steward  and 
cook.  No  one  doubts  that  they  live  on  the  fat 
of  the  land.  I  have  heard  country  people  say, 
*  Oh,  we  never  feed  our  cats,  we  want  them  to 
catch  mice.'  Such  people  ought  to  see  these 
sleek,  well-fed,  handsome,  graceful  creatures, 
and  know  that  they  are  the  best  mousers  in 
the  world.  Tiger  and  the  cats  live  on  the  best 
of  terms.  In  fact,  I  think  he  enjoys  having 
them  purr  around  him.  I  might  go  on  all 
night  telling  what  I  have  seen  this  summer,  all 
within  the  boundaries  of  this  great  field  ;  but 
I  have  already  taken  more  time  than  I  ought." 

After  listening  to  the  mirthful  comments  of 
the  young  people  on  her  show  windows,  Miss 
Kate  turned  to  a  pretty  lady  dressed  in  blue, 
and  asked  her  to  please  stop  the  nonsense  by 
telling  something  about  birds.  The  lady  began, 
by  repeating  a  few  lines  from  Longfellow,  whose 
tenderness  to  God's  humblest  creatures  is  as 
widely  known  as  his  name. 


FOR  PITY'S  SAKE.  87 

ABOUT    BIRDS. 

** '  Do  you  not  think  what  wondrous  beings  these  ? 

Do  you  ne'er  think  who  made  them,  and  who  taught 
The  dialect  they  speak,  where  melodies 
Alone  are  the  interpreters  of  thought? 

You  call  them  thieves  and  pillagers,  but  know 
They  are  the  winged  wardens  of  your  farms, 

Who  from  the  cornfields  drive  the  insidious  foe, 
And  from  your  harvests  keep  a  hundred  harms.' 

Three  years  ago,  the  lore  of  bird-dom  was 
a  sealed  book  to  me.  Of  course,  I  knew  a 
robin  and  a  crow ;  and  no  one  who  is  not  color 
blind  can  mistake  a  blue-bird  or  a  black-bird. 
Beyond  this  meagre  knowledge,  a  bird  was  a 
bird  to  me,  and  I  made  no  pretense  of  knowing 
anything  of  its  name,  its  'hame,'  its  haunts  or 
its  habits.  I  was  not  well  at  that  time  and  rny 
friends  urged  me  to  go  to  the  Isles  of  Shoals, 
where  one  can  get  the  benefit  of  the  invigora 
ting  sea  air  without  the  discomfort  of  a  long 
sea  voyage.  For  a  week  or  more,  '  Go  to  the 
Shoals  '  was  dinned  into  my  ears,  till  in  self 
defence  I  packed  my  belongings  and  started. 
It  was,  to  me,  a  red-letter  day,  for  I  passed 
four  busy  happy  weeks  there  gaining  health 
and  strength  ;  and  brought  home  with  me  a 
store  of  pleasant  memories  and  beautiful  pic- 


88  FOR  PITY'S  SAKE. 

tures  of  sea  and  sky  that  I  shall  treasure  for  a 
life-time. 

You  all  know  the  Isles  of  Shoals, —  those 
bleak,  rugged  little  islands  off  the  wee  bit 
coast  of  New  Hampshire  ?  They  are  scarcely 
more  than  heaps  of  rocks  with  here  and  there 
a  brilliant  patch  of  verdure.  To  a  lover  of  the 
sea,  one  of  the  most  enchanting  spots  on  earth* 
when  old  Atlantic  is  on  his  good  behavior  ;  but 
a  place  of  indescribable  terror  when  the  ocean 
is  in  a  rage. 

There,  I  met  Mrs.  Celia  Thaxter,  whose 
genius  and  charming  personality  have  made 
her  wind-blown  home  so  famous.  Every  hour 
I  passed  with  her,  seeing  with  her  eyes  and 
hearing  with  her  ears,  some  new  delight  in 
nature  was  revealed  to  me.  I  was  forced  to 
confess  with  shame  that  I  had  journeyed  so  far 
through  this  beautiful  world,  blind  and  deaf  to 
charms  that  everywhere  abound  —  only  for 
those  whose  senses  are  in  tune.  I  am  grate 
ful  every  day  for  the  new  joys  that  through 
her  have  come  into  my  life.  Mrs.  Thaxter's 
enthusiasm  and  love  for  birds  and  flowers 
^proved  to  be  contagious.  I  studied  birds  dur- 
jng  those  four  weeks  with  a  will,  and  no  one 
ever  had  a  more  inspiring  teacher.  A  pair  of 
bobolinks  stopped  at  the  island  one  day,  and  if 


FOR  PITY'S  SAKE.  89 

they  had  been  a  pair  of  Europe's  crowned 
heads  they  could  not  have  received  more  atten 
tion.  She  watched  their  every  movement  with 
a  bird-like  alertness,  and  not  a  note  of  their 
liquid  music  escaped  her  ear.  Every  one  on 
the  island  shared  the  excitement  caused  by 
this  distinguished  arrival.  The  stay  of  the 
bobolinks  was  short  as  they  were  doubtless  in 
haste  to  reach  the  main-land.  Many  birds  of 
many  kinds  find  these  'scraps  of  terra  firma' 
convenient  resting-places  in  migrating  seasons. 
I  wonder  how  many  of  you  know  Edgar 
Fawcett's  exquisite  lines  'To  an  Oriole.'  I 
think  I  can  repeat  them  ;  but  I  beg  the  author's 
pardon  if  I  blunder,  for  one  word  changed  — 
there  is  a  flaw  in  the  gem  : 

'  How  falls  it,  Oriole,  thou  hast  chanced  to  fly 
In  tropic  splendor  through  our  northern  sky? 
At  some  glad  moment  was  it  Nature's  choice 
To  dower  a  scrap  of  sunset  with  a  voice  ? 
Or  did  an  orange  tulip  flecked  with  black, 
In  some  forgotten  garden,  ages  back, 
Yearning  toward  heaven  until  its  wish  were  heard 
Desire,  unspeakably,  to  be  a  bird?' 

One  morning  not  long  ago  I  was  wakened 
early  by  the  gay  carol  of  an  oriole.  I  sprang 
out  of  bed  and  to  the  window,  for  a  glimpse  of 
a  golden  robin  is  enough  to  put  one  in  good 
humor  for  the  day.  There  was  the  glorious 


90  FOR  PITY'S  SAKE. 

creature  on  the  top  of  an  apple  tree  under  my 
window.  There  was  an  enormous  caterpillar's 
nest  in  the  tree,  so  hidden  from  the  ground 
that  it  had  escaped  destruction.  The  bird  went 
directly  to  it,  as  one  would  go  to  his  hotel  table 
for  breakfast,  tore  the  nest  open  from  end  to 
end  with  one  stroke  of  his  beak;  then  helped 
himself  to  what  was  no  doubt  a  right  royal 
breakfast  for  an  oriole. 

I  tell  you,  the  value  of  our  birds  as  insect- 
destroyers  is  not  half  appreciated.  We  know 
that  every  green  and  growing  thing  has  its 
pest,  and  that  the  birds  are  Nature's  weapons 
to  fight  these  pests.  If  we  only  had  birds 
enough  to  do  the  business,  thousands  of  dollars 
that  are  spent  every  year  to  get  rid  of  canker- 
worms,  caterpillars,  and  myriads  of  vile  grubs 
might  be  saved,  or  used  in  a  more  satisfactory 
way.  But  how  can  We  have  birds  enough  if 
the  hand  of  every  man,  woman,  and  child,  is 
against  them  ?  From  the  time  the  eggs  are 
laid  in  the  nests  in  the  spring  to  the  day  of 
migration,  those  who  should  be  the  natural 
protectors  of  the  feathered  tribes,  lie  in  wait  to 
destroy  them. 

We  read  that  man  was  given  dominion  over 
the  fowl  of  the  air.  IJoes  that  mean  that  every 
little  gamin  may  raid  upon  and  destroy  bird's 


FOR  PITY'S  SAKE.  91 

nests  and  eggs  wherever  he  finds  them  ?  Does 
it  mean  that  every  proper  little  school  boy 
shall  be  encouraged  to  take  just  one  egg  of  a 
kind  from  the  nests  to  make  a  '  collection  '  ? 
Does  it  mean  that  our  young  men  shall  further 
aid  this  process  of  extermination  with  fire  arms, 
and  bang  away  at  every  harmless  feathered 
creature  which  crosses  their  path  in  the  forest  ? 
Does  it  mean  that  the  most  beautiful  birds 
on  earth  shall  be  hunted  out  of  existence  for 
the  purpose  of  supplying  the  world  with  feather 
dusters  ?  Does  it  mean  that  the  innocents 
shall  be  slaughtered  by  the  wholesale,  that 
women's  hats  and  bonnets  may  be  adorned 
with  the  gay  plumage  of  poor  murdered  things  ? 

'  A  slaughter  to  be  told  in  groans,  not  words, 
The  very  St.  Bartholomew  of  Birds.' 

It  is  said  that  American  dealers  alone,  re 
ceive  five  millions  of  birds  yearly  for  millinery 
purposes.  Imagine  the  numbers  used  in  Lon 
don,  Paris,  and  all  the  other  great  cities  on  the 
other  side.  Think  of  thirty-two  thousand  dead 
humming-birds  in  a  single  consignment  re 
ceived  by  a  London  dealer !  and  eight  hundred 
thousand  pairs  of  wings,  in  one  fell  swoop  ! 

Why  cannot  « gentle  woman  '  adorn  herself 
with  ribbons  and  flowers  —  and  let  the  sweet 


92  FOR  PITY'S  SAKE. 

songsters  live  ?  Why  will  she  demand  the 
sacrifice  of  the  nightingale  that  she  may  dec 
orate  her  head  with  its  wings  ?  How  long  will 
she  cling  to  this  barbarous  custom  ;  —  crown 
ing  herself  with  a  tuft  of  feathers  —  the  head 
gear  of  a  savage  ? 

Fashion  says  that  my  lady  must  wear  the  re 
mains  of  a  dead  bird  upon  her  hat,  and  she  is 
too  week-kneed  to  stand  up  and  protest  against 
the  abominable  decree.  Women  alone  can  put 
a  stop  to  this  wholesale  horror  that  threatens 
the  extinction  of  whole  families  of  these  beauti 
ful  creatures.  The  trade  in  dead  birds  which 
has  reached  tremendous  proportions,  is  like 
other  trades,  dependent  upon  demand  and 
supply.  From  the  appearance  of  the  shop 
windows  I  judge  that  the  supply  is  now  abun 
dant.  Women,  alone,  can  put  a  stop  to  the 
demand.  It  is  high  time  for  them  to  cry 
aloud  against  this  cruelty. 

The  sufferings  of  the  mother-bird  must 
touch  the  mother-pity  in  woman,  as  she  reads 
again  and  again  the  story  —  <  Torn  from  her 
nest,  stripped  of  her  beautiful  plumage,  thrown 
upon  the  ground  to  die  in  agony  at  the  foot 
of  the  tree,  where  she  can  hear  the  cries  of 
her  starving  little  ones  in  the  nest  above/ 


FOR  PITY'S  SAKE.  93 

All  this,  for  a  tuft  of  feathers !     What  savages 
these  mortals  be  ! 

Every  right-minded  woman  should  look  this 
matter  squarely  in  the  face  and  say  to  herself, 
'  What  can  I  do  to  put  a  stop  to  this  evil  ? ' 
Whatsoever  her  conscience  answers  ;  let  her  do 
it  with  all  her  might. 

"  Ah,  life,  and  joy,  and  song,  depend  upon  it, 
Are  costly  trimmings  for  a  woman's  bonnet." 

Farmers  would  be  working  for  their  own 
interests  if  they  would  form  leagues  to  forbid  all 
shooting  of  birds  on  their  premises.  School 
boards  and  teachers  can  become  a  mighty 
power  in  training  the  rising  generation  to  love 
and  protect  the  little  warblers.  May  not  some 
force  be  brought  to  bear  upon  the  legislative 
bodies  of  every  state  in  our  Union,  that  will 
cause  them  not  only  to  pass  laws  for  the  pro 
tection  of  the  birds,  but  to  enforce  them  also? 

It  is  a  serious  matter  and  worthy  the  atten 
tion  of  every  man,  woman,  and  child,  in  Christ 
endom.  But,  Oh  dear!  one  may  talk  and  talk 
till  all  is  blue,  and  this  destruction  of  the  dear, 
bright,  beautiful  creatures  will  still  go  on. 
Some  day  we  shall  discover  that  whole  families 
of  our  native  song-birds  are  gone,  —  extermi 
nated; —  and  the  National  Museum  will  send 
scientists  to  and  fro,  here  and  there,  to  gather 


94  FOR  PITY'S  SAKE. 

if  possible  enough  to  reconstruct  «  specimens.' 
They  cannot  reconstruct  their  song,  even  with 
the  aid  of  the  'wizard's  '  latest  invention. 

There  are  cases,  we  are  told,  where  certain 
kinds  of  birds  in  great  numbers  are  so  destruc 
tive  that  man,  in  self  defence,  is  obliged  to  use 
heroic  measures.  One  does  not  willingly  be 
lieve  the  stories  told  of  the  transformation 
scenes  that  take  place  in  the  lives  of  our  be 
loved  bobolinks.  It  would  seem  that  they 
•carry  on  a  Dr.  Jekyll  and  Mr.  Hyde  sort  of 
life ;  charming  us  at  the  North  with  their 
beauty  and  their  rollicking  song ;  then,  in  the 
homely  garb  of  reed  birds  and  rice  birds,  en 
raging  the  farmers  and  planters  of  the  South 
by  wantonly  destroying  their  grain  crops. 

We  will  not  quarrel  with  the  planters  for 
trying  to  exterminate  their  visitors  if  they  are, 
in  truth,  so  very  destructive.  We  will  trust, 
however,  that  they  will  never  succeed  ;  for 
when  the  spring  comes  and  there  are  no  bobo 
links  in  the  meadows  of  New  England,  the  in 
habitants  will  have  cause  to  mourn." 

"  What  are  you  doing  ?  "  said  a  young  mother 
to  her  little  daughter  who  had  been  allowed  to 
sit  up  long  after  her  bed-time. 

"  I  am  trying  to  get  this  dear  little  humming 
bird  off  my  hat,  and  I'll  never,  never,  wear 


FOR  PITY'S  SAKE.  95 

another  birdie  as  long  as  I  live,"  said  the  little 
girl,  with  tears  in  her  voice  if  not  in  her  eyes. 

"  I  will  take  back  all  I  have  said  about  the 
hopelessness  of  talking  on  this  matter,"  con 
tinued  the  lady  in  blue,  "this  is  bearing  fruit 
already.  I  will  believe  that  every  word,  in 
season,  and  out  of  season,  will  *  tell,'  although 
we  may  sometimes  get  desperately  discouraged. 
I  remember  a  little  incident  apropos  of  this. 
You  know  in  warm  climates  poultry  is  brought, 
to  market  alive.  I  was  in  one  of  our  southern 
cities  last  winter,  and  it  constantly  distressed 
me  to  see  fowls  crowded  into  dirty  little  coops, 
and  left  out  in  the  blazing  sun  from  morning 
till  night  often  without  food  or  water.  One 
day,  stopping  in  front  of  a  market,  I  looked  for 
a  moment  at  the  wretched  drooping  creatures  ; 
then,  summoning  what  tact  I  could  command, 
ventured  in  and  asked  one  of  the  men  in  charge 
to  go  out  and  give  the  fowls  some  water.  He 
colored  to  the  roots  of  his  hair  as  he  said,  '  Oh  ! 
they've  had  plenty  of  water  to-day.'  I  insisted 
on  his  going  out  with  me  to  the  coops.  On 
seeing  the  condition  the  creatures  were  in,  he 
acknowledged  that  the  tins  were  pretty  dry. 

'  Yes,'  said  I,  '  they  were  dry  this  morning,  dry 
this  noon,  and  now  it  is  nearly  night  and«not  a 
drop  of  water  have  these  poor  things  had  to-day/ 


96  FOR  PITY'S  SAKE. 

He  poured  water  into  the  tins.  I  watched 
the  thirsty  creatures  as  they  tumbled  over  each 
other  in  haste  to  reach  the  cooling  drink,  and 
fancied  they  were  giving  thanks  when  they 
lifted  their  heads  to  let  it  run  down  their 
parched  throats.  Strange,  that  the  public 
doesn't  demand  better  treatment  of  them  for 
health's  sake  if  not  for  humanity's.  How  can 
people  buy  ior  food,  the  heated,  feverish,  neg 
lected  chickens  that  have  been  cooped  up  for 
hours,  uncovered,  in  the  burning  sun. 

About  three  weeks  after  this,  when  out 
walking  in  the  suburbs  one  morning,  I  met  a 
man  with  a  market  basket  on  his  arm.  His 
face  was  familiar,  though  I  couldn't  place  him. 
He  looked  at  me  in  such  an  interested  way,  his 
hand  half  raised  as  if  to  lift  his  hat,  that  I  ven 
tured  to  bow.  In  an  instant,  his  face  beaming 
all  over,  he  called  out  in  the  cheeriest  way, 
'  Good  morning,  Lady,  I've  watered  my  hens 
to-day.'  You  may  be  sure  I  gave  him  my  ap 
proval  with  no  uncertain  sound.  I  never  saw 
him  again ;  but  I  have  the  satisfaction  of  know 
ing,  that  when  shaking  in  my  shoes,  I  appeal 
ed  to  him  in  behalf  of  his  suffering  fowls  I 
sowed  a  seed  that  quickly  brought  forth  good 
fruit.* 

People  in  hot  climates  who  rarely    go    out 


FOR  PITY'S  SAKE.  97 

without  spreading  generous  umbrellas  over 
their  own  heads,  are  strangely  indifferent  to  the 
•comfort  of  animals.  They  leave  horses  hitched 
for  hours  in  the  burning  sun,  without  giving 
them  a  thought.  I  have  seen  mocking-birds,  in 
cages  that  were  hung  against  hot  brick  walls 
where  nothing  but  sun-set  could  give  them  any 
relief.  I  suppose  mocking-birds  will  be  caught 
and  caged  as  long  as  northern  people  will  buy 
them.  How  one's  heart  aches  for  the  restless 
captives,  hopelessly  beating  their  wings  against 
their  prison  bars.  When  free  in  its  own  sunny 
South,  poised  on  the  topmost  branch  of  an 
orange  tree,  the  mocking-bird  pours  forth  a 
most  surprising  torrent  of  melody  ;  but  in  cap 
tivity  its  song  grows  harsh  and  shrill. 

To  take  another  point  of  view.  Few  of  us, 
even  the  most  thoughtful,  realize  how  early  in 
life  habits  are  formed  and  characters  moulded. 
The  force  of  early  impressions  is  tremendous. 
Memory's  pictures  of  childhood  are  clear  cut 
and  strong,  as  compared  with  the  faint,  imper 
fect  prints  of  later  years.  What  shall  be  the 
character  of  these  deep  and  lasting  impressions 
is  a  vital  question  to  the  educator  of  children. 
The  hope  of  the  future  is  in  the  public  schools. 
What  they  are  doing  to-day  is  a  cause,  that  will 
produce  its  effect  in  the  days  to  come.  Are 


98  FOR  PITY'S  SAKE. 

they  educating  the  head  at  the  expense  of  the 
heart  ?  Are  they  developing  moral  and  spirit 
ual  growth  side  by  side  with  the  intellectual, 
in  the  building  up  of  character  ?  The  aim  and 
ideals  of  modern  education  are  noble  and  true 
beyond  a  question.  It  is  a  wise  leader,  how 
ever,  who  recognizes  the  best  means  to  the 
desired  end. 

The  science  studies  in  the  public  schools 
are  opening  the  eyes  of  children  to-day,  so  that 
life  ought  to  mean  far  more  to  them  than  it 
did  to  children  a  generation  ago.  But  the  im 
portance  of  studying  nature  aright  is  infinite. 
What  a  charming  picture  of  a  nature  study 
Longfellow  drew  when  he  wrote  of  the  infant 
Agassiz, 

'And  Nature  the  old  nurse,  took 

The  child  upon  her  knee, 
Saying:  Here  is  a  story  book 

Thy  Father  hath  written  for  thee. 

And  he  wandered  away  and  away 
With  Nature,  the  dear  old  nurse, 

Who  sang  to  him  night  and  day 
The  rhymes  of  the  universe." 

Emerson  struck  a  key-note  when  he  said, 
'  He  who  knows  what  sweetness  and  virtue  are 
in  the  ground,  the  waters,  the  plants,  the 
heavens,  and  how  to  come  at  these  enchant- 


FOR  PITY'S  SAKE.  99 

ments  is  the  rich  and  royal  man.'  The  ques 
tion  is,  what  methods  shall  be  used  to  come  at 
these  enchantments  ?  I  think  it  is  time  to 
change  the  base  of  nature  studies  when  birds 
and  squirrels  are  kept  in  miserable  captivity  in 
the  school-room  that  the  children  may  observe 
them  and  their  habits.  When  tad-poles,  dead 
and  dying,  in  bottles  of  fetid  water  are  held  be 
fore  the  class  for  the  purpose  of  illustration. 
When  every  small  child  has  its  own  wide- 
mouthed  bottle, —  labelled  poison,  —  in  which 
it  kills  all  the  creeping,  flying'  hopping  little 
creatures  it  can  lay  its  hands  on,  for  a 
'collection.'  Would  it  not  be  far  wiser  to  have 
for  each  school,  a  fine  full  collection  of  insects 
properly  prepared  for  general  use  ? 

When    I  was  a    small    child  in    the  public 
schools,  we  read  from  Bryant, 

'  Go  forth  under  the  open  sky  and  list 
To  Nature's  Teachings.' 

And  from  Cowper, 

4  I  would  not  enter  on  my  list  of  friends 
(Though  graced  with  polished  manners  and  fine  sense, 
Yet  wanting  sensibility,)  the  man 
Who  needlessly  sets  foot  upon  a  worm.' 

Wordsworth's  tender  lines  to  birds  and  butter 
flies  stirred  our  sympathies,  Scott's  beautiful 
tribute  to  the  faithful  dog  touched  our  hearts. 


ioo  FOR  PITY'S  SAKE. 

We  read  'The  Birds  of  Killingworth,'  '  The 
Bell  of  Atri,'  and  many  other  selections  of 
similar  spirit.  We  not  only  read  them  but 
committed  them  to  memory,  and  memory  holds 
them  still.  The  lesson  we  learned  from  them 
is  never  to  be  forgotten. 

The  influence  of  humane  literature  on  young 
minds  is  inestimable.  I  believe  with  Mr.  An- 
gell,  President  of  the  Massachusetts  Society 
for  Prevention  of  Cruelty  to  Animals,  'that 
just  so  soon  and  so  far  as  we  pour  into  our 
schools  the  literature  of  mercy  towards  the 
lower  creatures  ;  just  so  soon  and  so  far  shall 
we  reach  the  roots,  not  only  of  cruelty  but  of 
crime'  Speaking  of  President  Angell  suggests 
another  quotation, 

'  That  man  I  honor  and  revere, 
Who  without  favor,  without  fear, 
In  the  great  city  dares  to  stand 
The  friend  of  every  friendless  beast, 
And  tames  with 'his  unflinching   hand 
The  brutes  that  wear  our  form  and  face, 
The  were-wolves  of  the  human  race.' 

With  John  Burroughs,  Bradford  Torrey, 
Olive  Thorne  Miller,  and  many  other  bird- 
lovers,  how  rich  the  schools  are  in  bird-lore 
to-day.  How  rich,  too,  in  literature  to  aid  and 
inspire  the  nature  studies  on  every  line. 


FOR  PITY'S  SAKE.  101 

Dissection  of  small  animals  is  thought  by 
some  public  school  instructors  to  be  an  im 
portant  feature  in  the  new  educational  methods. 
Training  children  to  observe,  to  think,  and  to 
form  their  own  conclusions,  is  no  doubt  leading 
them  along  the  lines  of  true  education.  But, 
for  the  love  of  God  !  why  give  them  gruesome 
death  to  '  observe,'  when  the  world  is  full  of 
life,  light  and  beauty  ?  Why  put  murderous 
thoughts  into  their  young  minds  ?  Why  nur 
ture  cruel  instincts  in  hearts  that  should  be 
filled  with  tenderness  ?  Cannot  all  necessary 
instruction  be  given  in  some  way  that  will  not 
thus  early  familiarize  them  with  cruelty  and 
blood  ?  Will  not  the  microscope  serve  better 
than  the  scalpel  to  show  to  the  young  the 
wonders  of  nature,  to  increase  their  power  to 
see  the  beautiful,  to  inspire  them  with  nobler 
impulses  and  higher  thoughts  ? 

When  out  driving  one  day,  I  passed  a  party 
of  very  small  children  who  were  catching 
butterflies  among  the  wild  flowers  by  the  road 
side.  Some  had  nets,  but  those  who  had  none 
used  their  hats  very  deftly.  I  stopped  and 
asked  what  they  were  going  to  do  with  them. 
A  dirty-faced  little  boy  answered,  '  Put  'em  in 
the  suller.'  Imagine  butterfly  life  in  a  cellar  ! 
The  beautiful  Parable  of  Mrs.  Gatty  makes  no 


102  FOR  PITY'S  SAKE. 

provision  for  such  a  possibility.  Think  of  all 
these  little  people  with  nets  and  bottles  devot 
ing  their  play-time  to  catching  and  killing 
insects,  and  observing  them  in  their  dying 
agonies  !  It  did  not  surprise  me,  for  I  had 
read  in  a  guide-book  to  teachers  these  words, 
'  Encourage  the  children  to  make  collections 
for  themselves.'  This  was  followed  by  direc 
tions  for  preparing  and  administering  the  poison. 

Imagine  all  the  public  school  children  in  the 
country  turned  loose  to  make  '  collections  '  of 
birds'  eggs  and  butterflies.  No  mistake  would 
be  made  if  they  were  sent  out  to  aid  the  birds 
in  a  crusade  against  canker-worms,  tussock 
moths,  and  such.  Many  kinds  of  beetles,  bugs, 
wasps,  and  guaze-winged  flies  are  vigorous  co- 
workers  with  the  birds  in  making  warfare  on 
injurious  grubs.  Through  ignorance  and 
thoughtlessness  these  natural  protectors  of  the 
crops  have  too  long  been  destroyed  by  man. 
All  that  children  can  learn  towards  distinguish 
ing  between  the  friendly  insects  and  the  de 
structive  pests,  will  be  capital,  for  the  next 
generation. 

You  may  call  me  a  crank,  but  I  believe  it  is 
a  mistake  to  teach  Botany  to  very  young 
children  as  it  is  often  taught.  I  would  have 
the  little  people  first  learn  to  love  the  spirit  of 


FOR  PITY'S  SAKE.  103 

the  flower.  I  would  have  them  study  its  beauty 
of  form  and  color,  try  to  draw  and  possibly  to 
paint  it,  learn  to  handle  it  tenderly  and  pre 
serve  its  frail  life  as  long  as  possible,  instead 
of  ruthlessly  tearing  the  dear  thing  in  pieces 
to  find  out  how  many  stamens,  pistils,  petals, 
it  may  have  and  who  or  what  are  its  family 
relations.  There  will  be  time  enough  to  study 
the  physical  mechanism,  after  reverence  and 
love  for  nature's  sweetest  things  are  implanted 
in  the  heart. 

But  wasn't  I  asked  to  tell  you  something 
about  birds  ?  I  beg  your  pardon  for  letting 
them  fly  away  from  me." 

Here,  Miss  Kate,  the  moving  spirit  of  the 
party,  said  to  Tom  and  Harry,  "  Now  boys,  if 
you  have  anything  to  say,  this  is  your  time.  I 
shall  not  allow  you  to  stay  after  study  hour,  to 
run  the  risk  of  adding  to  a  list  of  marks  that  I 
know  is  already  dangerously  long." 

WHAT  TOM  HAS  TO  SAY  ABOUT  DOGS. 

"  I  wish  I  could  see  my  dog  to-night.  I 
never  went  so  long  before  without  a  dog  to  fol 
low  me.  Some  of  the  fellows  keep  them  in 
their  rooms,  or  tied  up  in  sheds  where  they 
board  ;  but  I  wouldn't  give  a  picayune  for  a  dog 
unless  I  could  keep  him  in  good  condition. 


io4  FOR  PITY'S  SAKE. 

Deliver  me  from  an  unhappy  dog.  My  dogs 
are  always  fed  twice  a  day  —  I  don't  believe  in 
this  one  meal  theory.  They  are  never  chained, 
unless  it  is  necessary  for  some  special  reason. 
At  home,  there  is  plenty  of  water  near  by  so 
they  can  get  all  they  want,  to  drink  or  to  swim 
in  any  hour  of  the  day.  Given  —  plenty  of 
food,  water,  and  exercise,  and  your  dog  is 
pretty  sure  to  be  all  right.  I  tell  you,  if  you 
want  a  friend  that  will  stick  by  you  through 
thick  and  thin,  lay  up  nothing  against  you, 
follow  you  to  the  ends  of  the  earth  and  starve 
to  death  on  your  grave, —  get  a  good  dog. 

One  can  never  be  very  lonelv  with  a  bright 
dog  for  company.  I  am  acquainted  with  a 
good  many  fine  dogs  but  don't  have  a  chance 
to  meet  them  very  often  now.  My  uncle  in 
Somerville  has  a  Newfoundland,  a  great  splen 
did  fellow,  who  never  fails  to  meet  his  master 
at  the  station  on  the  arrival  of  the  five-twenty 
train  out  from  Boston.  How  the  dog  knows 
that  particular  train,  when  trains  are  coming 
and  going  every  minute,  is  the  query." 

"  How's  this,  Tom  ?  Do  you  use  the  pro 
noun  '  who '  at  your  school  in  speaking  of 
dogs  ? "  interrupted  some  one. 

"  Well,  if  Sir  Walter  Scott  can  use  'who  '  in 
writing  of  a  cat,"  said  Tom,  "  I  think  I  may  be 


FOR  PSTY'S  SAKE.  105 

forgiven.  No  more  interruptions  please  unless 
for  applause. 

A  cousin  of  mine  has  a  little  black  and  tan 
terrier,  a  knowing  little  chap  as  ever  lived. 
Every  Sunday  morning  the  dog  goes  to  church 
fully  an  hour  before  any  of  the  family  starts. 
When  they  get  there,  the  little  fellow  meets 
them  in  the  vestibule,  wiggling  all  over,  he  is 
so  glad  they  have  come.  But  his  Sunday  even 
ing  performance  is  still  funnier.  My  cousin's 
best  girl  lives  a  mile  or  more  away,  but  there  is 
never  a  Sunday  night  that  the  dog  doesn't  get 
there  first.  You  may  be  sure  he  is  cordially 
received  and  well  entertained  until  his  master 
appears. 

Some  of  you  who  were  here  two  years  ago 
must  remember  a  setter  named  Jake  that  be 
longed  to  a  gentleman  boarding  here.  There 
was  nothing  remarkable  looking  about  Jake, 
but  he  did  some  queer  things.  Soon  after  he 
left  here  his  master's  father  died.  The  dog 

o 

grew  restless  and  seemed  all  the  time  to  be 
looking  for  the  old  gentleman  of  whom  he  was 
very  fond.  One  day  Jake  went  with  his  master 
into  a  photographer's  rooms  in  the  city  where 
a  photograph  of  the  father,  that  had  been 
thrown  up  to  nearly  life  size,  stood  on  a  low 
rack  with  several  others.  The  dog  wandered 


io6  FOR  PITY'S  SAKE. 

about  the  room  —  stopped  before  this  picture  — 
looked  at  it  sharply,  tried  to  get  behind  it;  then 
taking  the  pasteboard  in  his  mouth  he  threw 
himself  down  upon  the  floor  and  deliberately 
tore  it  in  pieces.  His  master  and  the  artist 
stood  by  and  quietly  watched  the  whole  proceed 
ing.  Now,  what  could  the  dog  have  thought  ? 
Did  he  suppose  that  the  old  gentleman  was 
somehow  in  the  picture,  and  tearing  it  would 
let  him  out  ?  or  was  he  so  disgusted  when  he 
found  the  sham  that  he  made  an  end  of  it  on 
the  spot  ? 

Jake  was  sent  to  a  farm  in  the  country  the 
next  fall,  where  he  had  a  good  home  and  a 
chance  to  run  in  the  woods  often  enough  to 
keep  him  in  good  spirits.  The  woman  of  the 
house,  a  hard  worker  like  most  country  women, 
was  washing  one  Monday  morning,  Jake,  her 
only  companion  lying  in  a  warm  corner  on  the 
floor  As  she  put  the  last  stick  of  wood  into 
the  stove  she  said  to  the  dog,  'Jake,  I  should 
think  you  might  go  out  and  bring  me  in  some 
more  wood.'  To  her  amazement  he  started 
for  the  wood-pile,  and  brought  in  one  stick  at  a- 
time  until  the  box  was  full.  When  the  good 
woman  told  the  story  she  said  she  was  about 
as  much  frightened  as  she  was  surprised. 

I  sometimes  think  if  dogs  could  speak  they 


FOR  PITY'S  SAKE.  107 

might  tell  us  a  good  many  things  that  would 
surprise  us.  That  ridiculous  little  pug  sitting 
there  on  the  horse-block,  looks  now,  as  if  he 
could  solve  problems  and  clear  up  mysteries 
that  stagger  the  knowing  ones.  Whoever  gave 
him  his  name  had  an  eye  to  the  fitness  of 
things,  for  no  'Judge  '  ever  wore  the  wig  who 
looked  wiser  than  he. 

And  that  tiny  « Daniel  Deronda,'  Miss 
Elizabeth  Stuart  Phelps'  little  pet,  has  his  full 
share  of  brains.  I  saw  him  do  a  neat  thing 
one  day.  Miss  Phelps  came  into  the  hall  here 
and  passed  on  into  the  office.  The  little  clog 
was  following  her,  but  to  my  surprise  he  stop 
ped  on  the  door-sill.  He  is  just  a  bit  afraid  of 
the  Newfoundland.  He  didn't  dare  to  pass 
the  great  dog  who  was  lying  in  the  narrowest 
part  of  the  passage.  I  have  been  told  that 
Tiger  treated  him  shabbily  once  on  a  time,  but 
I  am  inclined  to  think  it  was  only  rough  play. 
Daniel  hesitated  an  instant — then  rushed  up 
the  front  stairs  —  though  the  upper  hall  — 
down  the  back  stairs  —  and  ran  into  the  office 
looking  quite  conscious  that  he  had  overcome 
the  difficulty  very  cleverly. 

Mrs.  Stowe  used  to  be  very  fond  of  dogs. 
People  who  remember  her  when  the  stone 
cabin  was  her  home,  often  speak  of  her  beauti- 


io8  FOR  PITY'S  SAKE. 

ful  dogs  and  of  her  love  for  them.  She  had  a 
fine  grey-hound  that  was  presented  to  her  when 
she  was  abroad.  There  are  two  little  grassy 
mounds  on  the  old  place  now  ;  one,  on  the 
lawn  in  front  of  the  house  under  the  shrubbery, 
the  other,  under  a  horse-chestnut  tree  at  the 
rear.  The  lady  who  lives  there  has  always 
carefully  preserved  them,  because,  she  says, 
they  look  so  much  like  little  graves.  Not  long 
ago,  when  a  son  and  a  daughter  of  Mrs.  Stowe 
visited  the  old  home,  she  found  out  that  they 
were  the  graves  of  little  dogs.  It  gladdened 
the  hearts  of  the  visitors  to  find  that  the 
burial  places  of  their  pets,  Florence  and 
Chumb,  had  never  been  disturbed. 

A  funny  little  story  is  told  here  of  one  of 
Mrs.  Stowe's  sons.  When  a  very  small  boy, 
he  and  his  dog  were  inseparable.  The  love  be 
tween  them  was  something  pathetic.  The  dog 
was  a  clever,  affectionate  little  fellow  but  had 
no  aristocratic  lineage  to  boast  of.  One  day 
the  boy  came  home  with  tears  in  his  eyes. 
One  of  his  play-mates  who  had  a  bull  terrier, 
and  another  who  had  a  mastiff,  had  told  him 
that  his  dog  wasn't  worth  a  straw  ;  it  was  just 
a  good-for-nothing  cur.  Professor  Stowe,  on 
hearing  the  grievance,  said,  <  My  son,  go  directly 
back  and  tell  those  boys  that  your  dog  is  a  full- 


FOR  PITY'S  SAKE.  109 

blooded  mongrel,  and  that  your  father  says  a 
better  dog  cannot  be  found  in  this  town.' 

One  of  the  Professors  here  now,  has  a  hand 
some  Irish  setter,  so  full  of  life  that  he  cannot 
keep  on  the  ground.  He  has  a  habit  of  making 
a  rush  for  gates,  bars,  fences,  —  and  before  one 
can  say  Jack  Robinson  he  bounds  over  the 
highest  of  them,  —  then  turning,  comes  back 
the  same  way,  simply  for  the  fun  of  it.  He 
wants  nothing  better  in  the  world  than  a  chance 
to  run  with  the  horse  and  buggy  when  the  Pro 
fessor  takes  his  daily  drive.  They  were  going 
past  one  of  the  old  farm  houses  in  the  country 
where  there  is  an  old-time  well-sweep.  The 
dog  had  been  brought  up  on  modern  improve 
ments,  so  the  well-curb  only  suggested  some 
thing  for  him  to  jump  over.  He  made  a  rush 
for  it.  The  Professor  saw  what  he  was  driving 
at,  and  called  furiously,  but  you  might  as  well 
try  to  stop  a  cyclone  as  to  turn  him  after  he 
once  gets  started.  He  jumped, — and  went  to 
the  bottom  of  a  well  twenty  or  thirty  feet  deep. 
His  master  tried  to  fish  him  out  by  making  a 
slip-noose  with  the  reins  but  he  couldn't  do  it 
alone.  He  had  to  leave  him  there  and  go  for 
help.  He  found  a  man  who  went  down  the 
well  and  fastened  a  rope  around  him.  Together 
they  managed  to  rescue  him.  Dash  came  up  a 


no  FOR  PITY'S  SAKE. 

little  sadder  and  wiser,  perhaps,  and  pretty 
well  soaked.  He  knows  better  than  to  be 
taken  in  by  a  well-curb  again. 

Last  summer,  a  lady  boarded  here  whose 
home  is  only  ten  miles  away.  She  left  her 
little  dog  at  home  with  the  rest  of  the  family. 
Somehow,  he  discovered  that  she  was  here, 
and  every  Sunday  afternoon  for  several  weeks 
that  dog  came  alone,  ten  miles  over  the  road, 
to  visit  her.  One  Sunday,  rain  poured  in  tor 
rents  all  day.  Several  people  spoke  of  the 
dog.  All  thought  the  weather  would  be  too 
much  for  him  ;  but  his  mistress,  laughing,  said 
that  she  shouldn't  give  him  up  until  bed-time. 
About  seven  o'clock  <  Beppo '  came  in.  A 
more  bespattered,  bedraggled  creature  you 
never  laid  eyes  on.  After  being  well  washed, 
rubbed  down  and  fed,  he  curled  up  on  a  fur 
rug  before  the  open  fire.  Too  tired  to  wag  his 
tail,  there  was  a  satisfied  look  in  his  eyes  that 
told  a  story  without  words. 

Did  you  never  notice  the  human,  —  the 
almost  speaking  look  in  a  clog's  eyes  ? 

The  story  goes,  that  once  on  a  time,  long 
ago,  when  dogs  could  talk,  there  was  a  beautiful 
princess  who  used  to  send  messages  on  the  sly 
to  her  lover,  by  her  faithful  collie.  She  was 
closely  watched  by  all  her  people,  but  she  had 


FOR  PITY'S  SAKE.  iu 

only  to  whisper  into  the  collie's  ear  that  her 
father  was  planning  to  wed  her  to  a  prince 
whom  she  hated,  when  away  he  went,  scarcely 
stopping  to  breathe  until  he  had  found  the 
truly  lover  and  told  him  the  whole  story.  At 
night  the  lover  scaled  the  castle  wall  and  car 
ried  the  princess  away  in  his  arms  ;  as  any  true 
love  would  be  expected  to  do  under  the  cir 
cumstances.  The  dog,  it  seems,  was  captured 
on  his  way  home  by  the  king's  spies,  — taken 
to  the  wicked  old  demi-god,  and  accused  of 
causing  all  the  mischief  by  telling  tales.  His 
punishment,  a  terrible  one,  was  shared  by  the 
whole  race  of  dogs  ;  for  they  were  doomed  to 
be  dumb,  ever  after.  So  it  came  about,  that 
the  dog  now  tries  so  hard  to  speak  with  his 
eyes.  I  cannot  vouch  for  the  absolute  truth  of 
this  story,  as  I  wasn't  there,  and  didn't  know 
any  of  the  parties  ;  but  the  others  are  all  right. 
A  stranger  who  had  a  black  and  tan  terrier 
with  him  stopped  here  one  day  to  dinner.  He 
went  into  the  dining-room  leaving  the  little 
fellow  tied  with  a  long,  strong  cord  to  a  leg  of 
the  settee  in  the  office.  The  dog  whined  and 
howled  as  if  he  was  being  murdered.  Tiger 
came  running  in  from  outside  to  see  what  was 
up.  He  understood  it,  and  took  it  upon  him 
self  to  stop  the  racket  without  letting  him  get 


H2  FOR  PITY'S  SAKE. 

away.  He  gnawed  off  the  cord,  leaving  about 
three  feet  attached  to  the  little  dog's  collar: 
then  took  the  end  of  it  in  his  mouth  and  led 
the  little  cub  about  the  room  —  up  stairs — out 
doors  and  all  around  ;  keeping  him  quiet  and 
happy  as  a  kitten  till  his  master  came  out.  It 
was  so  funny,  that  he  was  left  to  keep  up  the 
performance  till  everybody  had  a  chance  to  see 
it  and  laugh. 

One  .evening  when  we  were  all  sitting  in  the 
office,  Tiger  came  in  with  his  mouth  wide  open  ; 
walked  straight  to  one  of  the  ladies  and  very 
carefully  laid  a  little  bit  of  a  kitten  on  her  lap. 
He  stood  by  her  side  looking  up  into  her  face, 
as  if  he  said,  '  1  didn't  know  what  to  do  with  it, 
but  I  thought  perhaps  you  might.'  He  couldn't 
tell  where  he  got  it,  but  we  surmised  that  it 
was  dropped  by  some  mother  cat  that  was 
lugging  her  family  across  the  country,  as  cats 
often  do.  Tiger  knew  it  couldn't  take  care  of 
itself  and  I  suppose  thought  he  would  find 
some  one  to  adopt  it.  Everybody  feels  safe  in 
this  house  at  night.  Tiger  sleeps  in  the  hall 
just  outside  his  master's  door.  When  he  hears 
a  noise,  he  goes  down  stairs  where  the  doors 
stand  open  so  he  can  go  from  room  to  room 
and  look  out  of  the  windows.  If  he  sniffs  dan 
ger  he  gives  the  alarm.  When  Tiger  speaks 


FOR  PITY'S  SAKE.  113 

in  the  night  some  one  goes  to  find  out  what  he 
is  trying  to  say.  No  other  night  watchman 
is  needed  here. 

Dogs  have  their  joys  and  sorrows,  Some  of 
them  surfer  for  lack  of  care.  Others  surfer 
from  too  much  of  it.  Once  in  a  while  a  hydro 
phobia  scare  calls  out"  the  muzzles  to  drive  the 
sane  ones  mad.  Not  long  ago,  a  poor  stray 
dog  was  chased  over  about  half  of  this  county. 
When  at  last,  he  was  killed,  it  was  found  that 
his  stomach  hadn't  a  thing  in  it  but  a  few  bits 
of  chewed  up  sole  leather.  We  should  run 
mad  if  we  were  starved  to  that  point.  It  is 
a  hard-hearted  man  who  will  drive  a  starving 
dog  from  his  door  without  giving  him  a  bone. 
There  is  no  other  animal  on  this  earth  so  cruel 
as  man.  Suppose  that  we  were  the  '  lower 
animals  '  to  a  race  of  beings  on  earth  as  far 
above  us  as  we  think  the  human  race  is  now 
above  the  brute  creation  ;  that  we  could  under 
stand  but  little  of  their  language  ;  that  we  were 
dependent  on  them  for  everything,  yet  could 
not  tell  them  when  we  were  hungry,  thirsty,  or 
suffering  with  pain  ;  that  our  rights  were  what 
they  saw  fit  to  grant  us  ;  that  they  could  use 
our  lives  and  all  our  powers  in  their  service,  — 
could  even  cut  our  quivering  bodies  in  pieces, 
behind  the  closed  doors  of  their  laboratories  ; 


ii4  FOR  PITY'S  SAKE. 

and  there  was  no  one  to  say,  'Thou  shalt  not.' 
Unless  there  was  a  greater  proportion  of  the 
milk  of  kindness  in  their  hearts  than  there  is 
now  in  the  hearts  of  the  human  race,  shouldn't 
we  have  a  tough  time  of  it  ?  " 

HARRY    RUSTICATES. 

"  You  all  know  that  I  went  into  the  country 
for  a  month  last  spring.  I  didn't  go  for  pleas 
ure  —  I  didn't  go  for  my  health.  I  didn't 
think,  myself,  that  I  had  committed  a  crime 
that  deserved  capital  punishment,  but,  By  jolly! 
I  got  it  all  the  same.  I  never  had  a  better 
time  in  my  life.  I  was  all  tired  out,  and  just 
what  I  needed  was  to  vegetate.  And  there 
was  nothing  else  for  one  to  do  in  that  forsaken 
spot.  It  is  one  of  those  places  where  people 
never  go  unless  they  are  obliged  to, —  and  then 
they  drive  through  as  fast  as  they  can.  I'd 
like  to  have  our  crowd  turned  loose  in  their 
street  some  night  after  a  good  ball  game. 
They'd  think  a  lunatic  asylum,  menagerie,  and 
the  Wild  West  Show  were  storming  the  town. 

I  boarded  with  an  old  farmer  and  his  wife, 
and  recited  to  the  minister  who  lived  half  a 
mile  away.  There  was  nothing  uproariously 
exciting  going  on  evenings,  so  I  just  pitched  in 
and  studied  for  all  I  was  worth.  Breakfast  at 


FOR  PITY'S  SAKE.  115 

six  o'clock  in  the  morning.  Recitation  at 
eight,  and  after  two  hours  with  the  parson  my 
day's  work  was  done.  I  just  lazed  away  the 
rest  of  the  time.  Didn't  have  a  newspaper 
but  once  a  week,  and  I  was  glad  of  it. 

The  farmer  was  a  good  old  soul,  his  wife  was 
better ;  they  hadn't  a  child  in  the  world,  but 
they  had  the  finest  old  dog  I  ever  saw  in  my 
life.  Smart  as  a  whip  —  he  took  as  much  care 
of  the  place  as  the  old  man  did.  One  day  an 
old  hen  came  out  from  a  hole  under  the  barn, 
cackling  as  if  she  wanted  the  whole  world  to 
know  she  had  done  something  worth  making  a 
noise  about.  The  old  man  called  Jack  — 
pointed  to  the  hen  and  to  the  hole  —  and  said, 
'  Go  find  the  eggs.'  The  dog  did  the  rest. 
The  barn  was  so  low  that  he  couldn't  stand 
upright,  but  somehow  he  managed  to  squirm 
himself  along,  and  in  a  few  minutes  he  appeared 
with  an  egg  in  his  mouth.  He  went  nine 
times  and  brought  an  egg  safely  each  time  ; 
then  took  up  the  basket  the  farmer  had  put 
them  in  and  walked  off  with  it  to  the  house  as 
dignified  as  a  drum  major.  I  won't  say  he 
knocked,  or  rang  the  door-bell  —  but  he  set 
the  basket  down  on  the  door-step  and  barked 
till  the  old  lady  came  to  let  him  in.  He  didn't 
have  to  bark  long,  either. 


n6  FOR  PITY'S  SAKE. 

Jack  would  go  alone  to  the  pasture  and 
drive  the  cows  home  at  night.  He  would  lead 
the  horse  to  the  brook  to  water,  and  bring  him 
back  every  time.  He  would  carry  a  dinner-pail 
to  men  at  work  in  the  field  quarter  of  a  mile 
away.  If  any  of  the  tools  were  left  where  his 
master  had  been  at  work  the  dog  was  sent  for 
them.  He  saved  the  old  man  a  great  many 
more  steps  than  a  boy  would  have  done.  I  re 
member  how  we  laughed  to  see  him  coming 
with  a  hoe.  He  tried  several  ways  that  didn't 
suit  him  —  then  got  a  good  firm  grip  on  it  close 
to  the  business  end  —  let  the  handle  drag  on 
the  ground,  and  so  managed  it  very  well.  The 
hammer,  one  end  so  much  heavier  than  the 
other,  was  about  as  bad  as  the  hoe,  but  Jack 
brought  it  in  all  the  same. 

He  was  very  chummy  with  the  cat.  They 
would  lie  down  together  on  the  same  rug  and 
eat  off  the  same  plate.  The  cat,  too,  was  no 
body's  fool.  She  went  ahead  of  the  dog  in  one 
thing.  She  could  open  the  door  and  let  him  in 
when  he  barked  outside.  It  was  funny  to  see 
her  jump  up,  — strike  the  old  fashioned  latch 
with  her  paw,  and  swing  in  on  it  when  the 
door  opened.  I  noticed  that  they  both  forgot 
to  shut  it,  though. 

Jack  was  raised  on  a  milk  farm  in  New  York 


fOR  PITY'S  SAKE.  117 

State,  and  was  thought  to  be  worth  about  as 
much  as  a  hired  man  on  the  place.  He  t  used 
to  churn,  a  part  of  every  day,  and  was  the  hero 
of  a  story  in  St.  Nicholas  called  'The  Little 
Churn  Dog,' —  although  the  writer  never  saw 
him.  Jack  would  have  ended  his  days  where 
they  began,  on  the  milk  farm,  for  he  was  the 
pet  of  the  whole  family  ;  but  one  unlucky  day 
he  was  accused  of  killing  a  neighbor's  sheep. 
Guilty  or  not  guilty,  his  life  was  in  danger. 
There  was  nothing  to  prove  that  he  had  taken 
part  in  the  slaughter,  and  his  master  knew  that 
Jack  couldn't  do  such  a  mean  thing  ;  but  there 
were  the  dead  sheep  ;  there  was  the  dog ;  and 
the  neighbor,  stark  mad,  was  lying  in  wait  for 
him  with  a  shot  gun.  There  was  nothing  to  do 
but'to  send  him  away  to*  save  his  life. 

So  it  happened  that  Jack  is  with  my  old  far 
mer  and  his  wife,  where  he  will  have  a  good 
home  as  long  as  he  lives  ;and  then  a  decent 
burial. 

Now  we  must  be  off,  Tom ! " 
Over  the  fence  the  two  boys   vaulted,   and 
hurried  down  the  street  as  on    the  preceding 
evening. 

The  next  one  called  upon  to  speak  was  a 
thoughtful  looking  middle  aged  woman,  who 
.said  if  we  would  promise  to  listen  with  patience, 


n8  FOR  PITY'S  SAKE. 

she  would  talk  about    the  least  appreciated  of 
all  our  domestic  animals,  the  cat. 

A    TALK    ABOUT    CATS. 

"  After  singing  the  praises  of  horses,  dogs 
and  birds  with  so  much  spirit,  I  fear  you  will 
not  be  in  tune  for  a  plain  talk  about  nothing 
but  cats.  No  other  domestic  animal  has  a  his 
tory  of  such  varying  fortunes  as  this  most  love- 
able,  much-slandered  little  creature.  It  has 
held  positions  ranging  from  the  highest  to  the 
lowest,  in  the  scale  of  human  estimation.  In 
the  early  days  of  this  old  world,  the  cat  was  an 
object  of  worship,  beloved  and  feared,  the 
haughty  companion  of  gods  and  kings.  In  a 
later  age  we  find  it  an  uncanny,  detested,  un 
clean  thing,  the  familiar  of  ghosts  and  witches, 
the  associate  of  imps,  and  even  the  symbol  of 
the  arch-fiend  himself.  The  cat  figures  in  the 
literature  of  all  ages  and  all  countries  from  the 
days  of  the  Pharaohs  to  our  own  time.  I  have 
read  that  pussy  isn't  mentioned  in  the  Bible  ; 
that  she  first  appeared  on  the  monuments  of 
the  middle  Egyptian  Empire  ;  and  what  is  very 
curious,  she  was  evidently  used  as  a  retriever 
by  a  hunter  of  water-fowl.  If  she  disliked  to 
wet  her  feet  as  she  does  now  she  must  have 
hated  her  vocation.  Cat  or  no  cat  in  the 


Influence 

We  scatter  seeds  with  careless  hand-. 
And  deem  we  ne'er  shall  see  them  more  : 
Yet  for  a  thousand  years  their  fruit  appears, 
In  weeds  that  mar  the  land— 
Or  healthful  store. 

The  deeds  we  do,  the  words  we  speak, 
Into  the  air  they  seem  to  fleet; 
We  count  them  past, 
Rut  they  shall  last ; 

n  the  dread  jud-ment  they  and  we  shall  meet. 
(Her.   John  AY/>/<-) 


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or  THH 

UNIVERSJ 


The  Camera  Versus  the  Gun. 


The  camera  is  a  delightful  companion  for 
a  day's  wandering  through  the  woods,  and  the 
sportsman  who  goes  out  with  one,  as  well  as 
with  hi.s  gun,  returns  with  less  game,  but  with 
pictures  that  instantly  call  to  mind  scenes  of 
pleasure.  The  camera  secures  the  bird,  but 
deprives  no  innocent  creature  of  its  life.  It  is 
true  the  hunter  lias  no  venison  for  dinner,  but 
he  can  always  show  the  picture  of  the  animal 
whose  life  would,  but  for  the  camera,  have  been 
sacrificed  for  the  sake  of  sport. 


On    Wanton  Killing. 


But  .vet,  O,  man,  rage  not  beyond  thy  need ! 
Deem  it  not  glory  to  swell  in  tryranny, 
Thou  art  of  blood;  joy  not  to  see  things  bleed 
Thou  f earest  death ;  think  they  are  loth  to  die ; 
A   plaint  of  guiltles^  heart  cloth  pierce  the  sky. 
(Siu  PHILLIP  SYDNEY.) 


What   is   the  most  cruel  ani 
mal  in  the  world? 


What  is  the  most  cruel  animal  in  the  world  ? 

Answer.  The  animal  that  kills  other  ani 
mals  simply  for  fun,  or  the  pleasure  it  gets  from 
killing  them. 

What  animal  kills  for  fun,  or  the  pleasure  it 
gets  from  killing  ? 

Answer.  It  is  a  biped,  or  two-legged 
animal,  and  is  called  man. 

This  is  the  animal  that  kills  other  animals 
simply  for  the  fun  of  killing  them. 


flanly  Prowess  (?) 


Once,  manly  prowess  wore  a  manly  frame, 
Muscles  of  steel,  endurance  firm  and  strong, 

To  meet  the  onslaught,  heedless  of  the  shock  ; 
Dauntless   and  brave,  to  victory  borne  along, 

Now,  manly  prowess  means  a  docked-tail  nag — 
A  jockey  cap,  high  boots  with  cruel  spurs, 

Speeding  behind  the  scent  of  anise  bag, 
Or  hare  or  fox  pursued  by  well-trained  curs ! 

Or,  manly  prowess,  when  a  poor  greased  pig 
With  limbs  jerked  out  of  joint,  bipeds  behind, 

Who  strive  to  catch  it — in  their  country  rig, 
And  their  loud  laugh  "that  speaks  the  vacant 
mind." 

Or  pent  up  pigeons,  snared  and  kept  at  hand. 

Half  suffocated,  dazed,  that  scarce  can  fly — 
While   outside  stands  a  gaping,  heartless  band, 

Counting  the  slaughtered  victims  as  they  die ; 

Or,  manly  prowess,  when  God's  image  stands 

Low  and  besotted  'mid  a  betting  crowd  : 
All    battered,    swollen,   maimed,   with   bloody 

hands, 

Pain,  death,  ignored,  'mid  plaudits  long  and 
loud ! 

Shade  of  Olympia  !  hide  within  thy  torn)) ! 
Or   say   the  world  for  nobler  deeds  has  room ! 
(  Boston  Transcript. 


FOR  PITY'S  SAKE. 


Bible,  I  shall  never  forget  the  delightful  pair 
of  pink  cats  in  the  Noah's  Ark  of  my  childhood. 
The  Egyptians  must  have  believed  that  the 
soul  of  a  cat  would  return  to  its  body,  else  why 
did  they  think  it  worthy  to  be  embalmed  ?  In 
those  days,  one  who  dared  to  kill  a  cat,  soon 
found  that  his  own  life  hung  by  a  slender 
thread.  A  few  centuries  later,  and  the  ill-fated 
creature  was  hunted  with  such  relentless  fury 
that  there  was  no  peace  for  it  among  the  habi 
tations  of  men.  When  and  why  it  became  so 
degraded  I  do  not  know.  Perhaps,  when  the 
gods  and  goddesses  that  it  had  lived  among 
were  dethroned,  the  people  ceased  to  reverence 
the  cat  and  condemned  it  to  become  the  asso 
ciate  of  evil  spirits.  One  can  imagine  some 
such  occult  connection  between  the  ups  and 
the  downs  of  its  life.  The  early  Christian  be 
liefs  no  doubt  tended  to  banish  this  graceful, 
winning  creature  from  polite  society.  Poor 
Puss  bore  her  share  in  the  miseries  and  mas 
sacres  of  the  innocents  in  the  days  of  witch 
craft.  Her  fair  fame  still  surfers  from  the 
inheritance  of  medieval  notions,  that  reflect 
little  credit  on  the  nineteenth  century. 

To-day,  the  cat  is  the  beloved  and  well- 
cared-for  pet  in  many  a  household  ;  the  worthy 
occupant  of  her  own  place  on  the  hearth  and  in 


120  FOR  PITY'S  SAKE. 

the  home.  In  many  another,  —  she  is  neg 
lected,  abused,  starved,  and  for  no  fault  of  her 
own  often  mercilessly  cast  out  and  left  to 
struggle  for  a  miserable  existence.  Noted  men 
and  women,  philosophers,  poets,  novelists,  kings 
and  priests  have  loved  this  beautiful,  soft,  furry 
creature,  appreciated  its  good  qualities,  and 
the  stories  they  have  told  of  their  cherished 
pets  are  known  the  world  over.  Victor  Hugo,. 
Renan,  Gautier,  Cardinal  Wolsey  and  hosts  of 
others  have  made  the  names  of  their  pet  cats 
famous  in  history.  Richelieu  had  no  less  than 
twenty  beloved  felines.  His  special  pets  were 
trusted  to  no  hireling's  care,  but  were  fed  from 
his  own  table  with  his  own  hands.  From 
Mahomet,  who  declared  that  his  adored  Muezza 
should  have  a  reserved  seat  in  his  heaven,  clown 
to  Madame  'Ronner,  who  is  to-day  giving  to  the 
art-loving  world  such  delicious  pictures  of 
these  born-to-be-petted,  basely  defamed  little 
creatures  in  their  most  bewitching  attitudes, 
men  and  women  of  world-wide  fame  have  not 
been  ashamed  to  avow  their  love  for  this  purr 
ing  thing,  and  the  enjoyment  they  find  in  its 
society. 

Beatoun  said,  <  If  you  want  to  know  the 
character  of  a  man  find  out  what  his  cat  thinks 
of  him.'  This  is  akin  to  the  old  saying,  '  Never 


FOR  PITY'S  SAKE.  121 

take  for  your  friend  the  man  whose  dog  doesn't 
like  to  follow  him.'  I  don't  know  how  far 
its  general  estimate  of  character  can  be  de 
pended  upon,  but  the  subtle  instinct  of  a  cat  in 
recognizing  its  friends  is  most  remarkable. 
The  dog  will  follow  and  fawn  upon  the  master 
who  beats  him.  The  cat  will  lavish  its  caresses 
only  on  one  who  treats  it  tenderly.  I  believe 
the  cat  to  be  equal  in  intelligence,  sagacity  and 
moral  qualities  to  either  the  horse  or  the  dog." 

"  How  can  you  say  so,"  exclaimed  a  young 
girl  who  sat  near  the  speaker.  Why  !  a  cat  is 
a  horrid  creature,  treacherous,  thieving,  sly, 
selfish  ;  I  can't  think  of  bad  names  enough  to 
give  a  cat." 

"  That  is  simply  because  you  are  not  ac 
quainted  with  cats,"  my  dear,  was  the  mild 
reply.  "  You  do  not  understand  them." 

"  I  am  sure,  nothing  on  earth  would  induce 
me  to  have  a  cat  in  my  house,  or  even  to  touch 
one  with  a  pair  of  tongs,"  she  said. 

"  I  am  sorry  you  have  such  a  prejudice 
against  this  lovable  little  creature.  I  think, 
however,  if  you  should  chance  to  live  in  the 
house  with  a  pair  of  frolicsome  kittens  a  single 
week,  they  would  overcome  it  entirely.  It  is 
very  curious  that  evil  associations  and  super 
stitious  fears  relating  to  the  cat,  cling  so  per- 


122  FOR  PITY'S  SAKE. 

sistently  to  the  mind  in  these  enlightened  days  ; 
yet,  in  time,  puss  will  live  down  her  bad  name. 
You  say  that  the  cat  is  selfish.  'Tis  true 
that  she  loves  her  home,  but  she  loves  her 
friends  none  the  less,  and  her  devotion  to  her 
offspring  is  almost  human  in  its  intensity.  She 
loves  a  cozy  corner  and  a  soft  cushion.  So  do 
you  and  I.  I  know  a  cat  that  returned  to  her 
old  home  from  a  place  twenty-six  miles  distant, 
and  two  rivers  to  cross  on  the  way.  She  made 
the  journey  in  three  weeks.  Though  little 
more  than  the  ghost  of  a  cat  when  she  arrived, 
she  was  so  fortunate  as  to  find  a  friend  who 
thought  that  what  there  was  left  of  her,  was 
worth  saving.  There  is  perhaps  no  other 
domestic  animal  so  fitted  by  nature  to  enjoy 
luxurious  surroundings  as  the  cat.  And  where 
will  you  find  a  more  wretched  animal  than  an 
ill-treated,  homeless  cat ;  one  that  has  no  friend 
to  depend  upon  for  food  or  a  kind  word  ? 
George  Eliot  said  :  '  I  have  all  my  life  had  a 
sympathy  for  mongrel,  ungainly  dogs  that 
were  nobody's  pets,  and  I  would  rather  surprise 
one  of  them  by  a  pat  and  a  pleasant  morsel, 
than  to  meet  the  most  condescending  advances 
of  the  loveliest  sky  terrier  which  has  his 
cushion  by  my  lady's  chair:  I  have  the  same 
kind  of  sympathy  for  homeless  cats. 


FOR  PITY'S  SAKE.  123 

You  say  the  cat  is  a  thief.  Who  blames  a 
starving  creature  for  stealing  a  morsel  of  food. 
Perhaps  you  and  I  would  do  the  same  thing. 
A  pet  cat,  turned  out  of  house  and  home  to 
starve,  or  get  a  living  as  she  can  while  her 
friends  (?)  are  enjoying  life  at  the  mountains  or 
the  sea,  is  even  a  more  piteous  object  than  one 
that  has  never  known  a  comfortable  home  and 
plenty  of  food.  Let  me  read  to  you  a  paragraph 
on  this  subject  written  by  a  well  known  New 
York  woman  who  comes  bravely  to  the  defence 
of  maltreated  animals  : 

'  The  English  language  compasses  no  word 
strong  enough  to  express  the  indignation  and  con 
tempt  one  feels  towards  people  who,  having  made 
pets  of  these  innocent  creatures,  cruelly  turn  them 
out  to  starve  when  they  tire  of  them  or  wish  to  go 
out  of  town  for  the  season.  Walk  through  the 
resident  streets  during  the  summer,  and  you  will 
see  thousands  of  forsaken  and  deserted  cats  act 
ually  made  insane  through  starvation  and  ill-usage. 
Sometimes,  thinking  of  these  frantic  little  creatures 
and  the  quaint  skeletons  of  beaten  horses,  I  ques 
tion  the  meaning  of  that  mercy  and  care  we  attrib 
ute  to  an  overruling  Providence.  We  are  early 
taught  to  believe  that  God  notes  even  the  sparrow 
in  its  fall.  If  this  is  true,  how  can  He  look  upon 
this  sinful  neglect  and  worse  than  horrible  abuse 
without  a  cure  for  it  ? ' 

This  is  pretty  strong  language,  but   it  stirs 


i24  FOR  PITY'S  SAKE. 

one's  wrath  to  the  dregs  to  see  such  abuse  of 
God's  creatures  by  people  who  call  themselves 
Christians.  Inhuman  deeds  may  justly  arouse 
all  the  contempt  one  is  capable  of  feeling 
towards  the  perpetrators,  even  if  they  do  not 
shake  one's  faith  in  an  over-ruling  justice  and 
mercy. 

I  lived  one  winter  in  the  city  where  there 
was  a  vacant  house  opposite.  I  soon  found 
that  a  vagrant  cat  had  taken  up  her  abode  in 
the  back  yard,  where  she  could  get  under 
cover  through  a  broken  board  in  an  out-build 
ing.  She  was  too  thin  to  cast  a  shadow,  and 
the  sad  expression  of  her  face  showed  plainly 
as  words  could  have  told  it,  that  this  was  a  cold 
world  for  her.  You  smile  ?  Did  you  never 
notice  the  difference  between  the  facial  ex 
pression  of  a  sleek  well-provided-for  puss 
whose  social  position  is  well  established,  and 
that  of  a  starved,  care-worn  outcast  ?  I  carried 
food  to  my  hungry  neighbor  at  once,  but  found 
her  so  shy  that  I  left  it  on  the  ground  with 
out  trying  to  make  her  acquaintance.  When 
T  went  again  she  met  me  at  the  gate.  She 
knew  that  I  was  her  friend.  I  continued  to  go 
every  evening  at  twilight  and  always  found  her 
listening  for  my  footsteps  ;  waiting  for  her 
supper  ;  yet  she  never  failed  to  purr  her  grati- 


FOR  PITY'S  SAKE.  125 

tucle  before  she  began  to  .eat.  One  evening  as 
she  stood  over  the  food  making  a  low  peculiar 
cry,  out  crawled  through  the  hole  in  the  shed, 
one,  two,  three,  four,  as  wretched  looking  small 
cats  as  I  ever  saw.  They  bore  no  resemblance 
to  the  fluffy  beauties  that  chase  the  spools, 
grow  wild  over  a  string,  and  perform  such 
laughable  antics  in  a  well  ordered  home.  It 
was  evidently  the  first  journey  of  the  kit 
tens  out  into  the  world.  All  was  strange  to 
them,  but  taught  by  hunger,  they  began  to  lap 
up  the  milk  like  famished  creatures.  The 
mother  walked  off  quietly  and  sat  down,  back 
to  them,  some  eight  or  ten  feet  away.  She  re 
fused  to  touch  a  morsel.  She  would  not  allow 
herself  to  look  at,  or  to  smell  the  food,  for 
fear,  I  suppose,  that  she  might  be  tempted  to 
break  her  resolution.  Do  you  say  the  cat  is 
selfish  ?  I  call  that  a  self-sacrifice  that  would 
be  heroic  in  a  human  mother.  You  may  be 
sure,  however,  that  she  did  not  go  supperless 
to  bed.  I  fed  that  cat  family  as  long  as  Hived 
in  the  neighborhood  ;  and  when  I  moved 
away,  —  it  was  a  terribly  hard  thing  to  do  but 
I  knew  it  was  kind,  —  I  had  them  all  mercifully 
killed.  I  should  not  have  slept  nights  if  I  had 
left  the  poor  things  hungry  and  friendless,  to 
watch  for  my  coming  until  they  starved. 


"  It  is  impossible  for  even  the  most  disciplined  spirit 
not  to  yearn  over  these  little  furry  darlings,  these  gentle, 
mischievous,  lazy,  irresistible  things:' 

AGNES   REPPLIER. 


"  We  should  remember  in  our  dealings  with  animals 
that  they  are  a  sacred  trust  to  us  from  our  Heavenly 
Father.  They  are  dumb  and  cannot  speak  for  themselves. 
They  cannot  explain  their  wants  or  justify  their  conduct; 
and  therefore  we  should  be  tender  towards  them" 

HARRIET  BEECHER  STOWE. 


"/  believe  that  the  urgent  protest  against  vivisection 
which  marks  our  immediate  day,  and  the  whole  plea  for 
lessening  the  miseries  of  animals  as  endured  at  the  hands 
of  men,  constitute  the  Lnext'  great  moral  question  which 
is  to  be  put  to  the  intelligent  conscience,  and  that  only  the 
educated  conscience  can  properly  reply  to  it" 

ELIZABETH  STUART  PHELPS. 


PITY'S  SAKE.  127 

Another  time,  I  was  boarding  at  a  hotel  in 
the  country.  The  ladies  were  sitting  on  the 
piazza  one  morning  after  breakfast,  when  a 
little  starved  kitten  came  out  from  under  the 
shrubbery  and  looked  up  at  us  with  pleading 
eyes,  although  it  made  not  a  sound.  I  ran  in 
to  the  breakfast  table  we  had  just  left  and 
brought  out  a  saucer  of  milk.  «  What  ! '  cried  a 
lady,  'are  you  going  to  feed  that  nasty  little 
cat  ?  she  will  keep  coming  here  all  the  time  if 
you  do.'  'Yes,'  said  I,  'that  is  just  what  I 
want  her  to  do.  If  you  and  I  were  starving, 
shouldn't  we  be  glad  to  find  some  one  who 
would  feed  us  ? '  The  kitten  came  again  and 
again,  surprising  those  who  knew  nothing  of  cat 
nature  by  coming  directly  to  me,  even  though 
the  piazza  was  crowded.  After  she  had  be 
come  well  nourished,  and  grown  strong  enough 
to  groom  herself  with  care  as  these  dainty  little 
creatures  delight  to  do,  we  discovered  that  she 
was  a  rarely  beautiful  tiger,  well-bred,  and  an 
ornament  to  any  home.  She  was  soon  every 
body's  pet,  but  when  so  popular  as  to  be  in 
constant  demand  she  never  turned  a  cold  shoul 
der  upon  her  first  friend. 

I  called  her  Tiddle-de- Winks,  and  took  her 
home  with  me  at  the  end  of  the  season,  be 
cause  she  was  so  devoted  to  me  that  I  thought 


128  FOR  PITY'S  SAKE. 

it  cruel  to  leave  her.  She  became  the  mother 
of  a  numerous  family.  Handsomer,  brighter, 
saucier  small-cats  never  lived.  One  of  her 
kittens  when  very  small  ran  up  an  elm  tree. 
It  turned  several  times  as  if  to  come  down, 
but  coming  back,  head  downward,  was  too  much 
for  even  the  courage  of  a  Winks.  It  knew  no 
other  way,  so  the  active  little  thing  kept  mov 
ing  on  and  up,  until,  thoroughly  frightened, 
down  it  sat  and  cried.  I  could  not  aid  it,  but 
it  occurred  to  me  that  the  mother-cat  might  be 
equal  to  the  occasion.  Tiddle-de-Winks  came 
at  my  call ;  at  once  understood  the  predicament 
her  beloved  offspring  was  in,  and  went  up  the 
tree  in  a  twinkling.  She  stayed  by  the  little 
one  a  moment ;  whispered  encouragingly  in  its 
ear  ;  then  backed  slowly  down  the  tree  to  the 
ground.  Her  object  lesson  took  immediate  ef 
fect.  The  infant,  following  its  wise  mother's 
example,  came  carefully  down,  and  when  safe 
on  the  ground,  they  gave  expression  to  their 
joy  in  a  rough-and-tumble  frolic.  The  Winks 
family  furnished  entertainment  for  our  own 
household  and  to  our  friends  for  several  years. 
For  intelligence,  affection  and  fidelity,  Tiddle- 
de-Winks  and  her  children  were  equal  to  any 
dogs  I  have  ever  known. 

Many  people  who  keep  cats  know  nothing  of 


FOR  PITY'S  SAKE.  129 

their  needs  or  their  nature.  They  need  shelter 
ing,  kind  treatment,  and  food.  A  lady  who  once 
saw  me  give  a  cup  of  water  to  a  cat,  exclaimed 
in  surprise,  '  I  didn't  know  that  cats  drank 
water.'  What  on  earth  did  she  think  they 
drank  ?  Isn't  water  provided  by  Nature  for 
all  thirsty  animals  ?  Cats  often  suffer  for  the 
want  of  it.  Water  should  always  be  kept 
where  they,  as  well  as  dogs,  can  help  them 
selves  when  they  need  it.  A  friend  of  mine 
who  had  a  domestic  fresh  from  a  far-away 
country,  told  her,  as  she  was  clearing  the  table 
for  the  first  time,  not  to  forget  to  give  Kitty  a 
good  breakfast.  Half  an  hour  later,  when  the 
lady  went  into  the  kitchen,  she  was  greeted 
with,  *  Sure  Ma'am,  I  gave  the  cat  a  good 
breakfast,  but  he's  not  hungry.'  A  large  plate 
with  five  or  six  huge  baked  apples  on  it  that 
stood  on  the  hearth,  and  a  disgusted  mieonw 
from  Kitty,  told  why  he  had  so  suddenly  lost 
his  appetite.  In  that  case,  Kitty  didn't  go 
hungry,  though  he  wasn't  fond  of  baked  ap 
ples.  It  is  surprising  that  many  people  who 
take  good  care  of  other  animals,  neglect  to 
feed  a  cat  or  to  provide  for  it  any  home  com 
forts.  There  are  people  in  this  world  who  are 
so  heartless  that  they  can  carry  a  helpless 
little  kitten  away  from  its  home,  drop  it  in  a 


130  FOR  PITY'S  SAKE. 

lonely  place,  and  coolly  desert  it.  The  cries  of 
the  starving  thing  do  not  reach  their  ears,  so 
they  think  no  more  about  it.  Sympathy  must 
have  been  left  out,  in  the  making  up  of  such 
natures.  One  who  will  have  a  pet  of  any  kind 
and  not  either  take  proper  care  of  it  or  merci 
fully  kill  it,  <  I  would  not  enter  on  my  list  of 
friends.'  The  cat  is  a  timid,  highly  organized, 
sensitive  creature.  Its  brain,  it  is  said,  so 
nearly  resembles  the  human  brain  that  the 
difference,  in  matter,  is  scarcely  perceptible. 
The  delicate,  beautiful  structure  of  the  cat  is 
its  misfortune.  I  pray  that  our  country  may 
yet  lead  the  world  in  protecting  all  living  be 
ings,  by  legislation,  from  the  terrible  sufferings  • 
inflicted  upon  them  by  what  is  called  '  science/ 
I  am  going  to  read  to  you  a  good  thing 
sent  me  by  a  friend  in  New  York  City,  who  is 
a  fearless  defender  of  all  abused  dumb  animals, 
and  a  special  friend  of  poor  puss.  It  gives  a 
striking  proof  of  the  refining  influence  of 
humane  teaching,  in  most  unpromising  cir 
cumstances.  This  article,  clipped  from  a  New 
York  daily,  is  a  report  of  one  of  New  York 
City's  industrial  schools,  written  in  a  serio 
comic  vein  by  Nell  Nelson. 

"Brutes  !     The  brutes  are  not  our  wrongers  ! 

Are  we  devils — are  we  men? 

Sweet  Saint  Francis  of  Assisi,   would  that  he 

were  back  again ! 

He  who  in  his  Catholic  wholeness  said  ' sister. » 
'Brother'  to  the  very  flowrers,  and  to  the  brutes, 
Whose  pains  are  never  less  than  ours." 


FOR  PITY'S  SAKE.  131 

'THE  CATS'  AID  SOCIETY.' 

1  IT    HAS    SAVED    MANY    SPRING    KITTENS    PROM 
UNTIMELY    DEATHS. 

EDUCATIONAL    VALUE    OF    THIS    NOVEL    AND 
NOBLE    CHARITY.' 

*  Fancy  organizing  a  cats'  aid  society  as  a  means 
of  governing  a  ragged  school  !  This  very  thing  has 
been  done  by  the  gentle-woman  who  superintends 
the  East  River  Industrial  School.  The  results 
have  been  two-fold,  viz :  the  salvation  of  scores  of 
spring  kittens  and  superannuated  Toms  and  Tab 
bies,  and  the  civilization  of  hundreds  of  brave  and 
blood-thirsty  little  boys  and  girls.  The  school  and 
the  New  York  slaughter-houses  are  in  the  same 
street.  Surroundings  have  much  to  do  with  the 
formation  of  a  child's  character,  and  the  greatest 
effort  on  the  part  of  the  teachers  was  needed  to 
resist  the  unconscious  influence  of  the  neighboring 
butchers.  Some  of  the  kindergarten  attacks  made 
on  captured  pussies  and  grocery  chickens  would 
make  a  Russian  weep.  The  little  girls  were  as 
cruel  as  their  brothers,  and  many  atrocious  deeds 
are  charged  to  their  account. 

Few  of  the  plagues  that  visit  the  city  overlook 
this  district.  Typhus  Fever  broke  out  and  the 
school  was  closed.  This  threw  some  five  or  six 
hundred  homeless  and  crippled  boys  and  industrial 
school  scholars,  less  than  twelve  and  more  than 
three  years  of  age,  on  the  community.  The  boys 
found  shelter  where  they  could,  and  the  children 


132  FOR  PITY'S  SAKE. 

roamed  the  streets  in  search  of  something  to  kill. 
On  March  first  they  returned  to  school  thirsting 
for  blood.  It  was  then  that  the  superintendent  in 
troduced  the  subject  of  cats,  dilated  on  their  mis 
fortunes,  extolled  their  virtues,  enlisted  the  sympa 
thy  of  the  whole  school  and  formed  the  "  Cats'  Aid 
Society "  with  three  hundred  charter  members. 
These  youngsters  pledged  themselves  "  never  again 
to  shoot,  stone  or  abuse  the  cats,"  and  to  do  all  in 
their  power  "to  save  the  poor  creatures  from 
cruelty  and  oppression."  Committees  were  ap 
pointed  to  solicit  donations  of  cats'  meat  and  catnip, 
and  to  find  "  good  homes  among  kind  people  for 
orphan  pussies  and  respectable  old  cats."  Each 
member  constituted  a  Rescue  Committee  and  was 
made  responsible  for  the  comfort  and  safety  of  any 
cat  that  might  cross  his  or  her  path. 

The  superintendent  builded  better  than  she  knew. 
The  very  next  day  she  had  a  cats'  asylum  to  look 
after.  The  feline  vagrants  were  lame,  blind, 
scalded,  and  generally  disreputable.  It  would  have 
been  merciful  to  administer  ether,  but  the  object 
was  social  reform,  and  the  unfortunate  animals 
were  allowed  to  live.  Milk  was  served  all  round ; 
one  broken  leg  was  put  in  a  splint ;  a  jacket  of 
liniment  and  cotton  was  made  for  a  singed  yellow 
cat ;  cot  beds  were  placed  about  the  steam  coils, 
and  the  patients  had  the  freedom  of  the  class  room. 
A  penny  collection  was  taken  up,  to  which  only 
teachers,  and  boys  and  girls  in  business,  were  al 
lowed  to  subscribe.  Every  day  a  fresh  lot  of  out- 


FOR  PITY'S  SAKE.  133 

casts  were  rescued.  The  recruits  of  Monday  came 
to  be  dreaded  by  the  founder  of  the  Society,  on 
account  of  their  numbers,  condition  and  appetites. 
But  not  one  applicant  was  repulsed.  At  recess  the 
children  taught  the  convalescent  orphans  to  do 
tricks,  and  lead  good  and  useful  lives.  By  way  of 
encouragement  blue  ribbons  were  bestowed.  When 
a  cat  became  well  and  strong  enough  to  keep  his 
fur  coat  in  order,  and  showed  skill  as  a  *  ratter  '  a 
purchaser  was  found  and  the  price  turned  into  the 
treasury. 

Up  to  date,  homes  have  been  found  for  fifty-two 
worthy  and  reliable  cats.  There  are  thirty-nine 
•cents  in  the  treasury,  and  not  one  forlorn  cat  in  the 
neighborhood.  The  girls  in  the  East  River  School 
are  as  gentle  as  doves,  and  the  boys  are  as  chari 
table  as  good  Samaritans.  The  superintendent  is 
-more  than  satisfied  with  the  moral  influence  of  the 
Cats'  Aid  Society.' 

Who,  that  reads  this,  can  ever  say  one  word 
in  favor  of  dissection  in  public  schools,  with  its 
train  of  demoralizing  and  debasing  influences  ? 
Children  may  become  so  hardened  by  famili 
arity  with  cruelty,  that  they  lose  their  last 
spark  of  human  kindness  ;  and  on  the  other 
hand,  they  can  be  easily  taught  to  love  and 
€are  for  all  the  little  people  of  the  woods  and 
fields  ;  to  treat  with  kindness  the  forsaken  cat 
and  the  neglected  dog  ;  to  give  food  rather  than 
a  stone ;  and  not  to  be  ashamed  to  bravely 


134  FOR  PITY'S  SAKE. 

stand  by  and  protect  a  poor  abused  creature 
that  cannot  defend  itself.  That  brave  little 
gentle-woman  of  the  ragged  school  gave  an 
object  lesson  which  demonstrated  the  uplifting 
influence  of  humane  teaching,  as  pages  of  words 
could  not  have  done. 

I  often  have  letters  from  this  New  York 
friend  that  are  filled  with  interesting  bits  of 
her  own  experience.  She  knows  how  to  go 
through  the  world  with  her  eyes  open.  When 
riding  in  the  elevated  one  day,  her  attention 
was  drawn  to  two  sportsmen,  who  were  telling 
each  other  their  adventures  in  the  Adirondacks. 
One  of  them,  who  said  he  used  to  be  called  a 
crack  shot,  told  some  wonderful  exploits  at 
pigeon  shooting,  but  added  '  I  have  given  up  all 
such  things  now.  The  last  time  I  went  into 
the  forest  I  shot  a  fine  doe.  Just  after  she  fell, 
a  beautiful  little  spotted  fawn  ran  out  of  the 
bushes  and  piteously  tried  to  nurse  its  dead 
mother.  That  was  too  much  for  me.  My  God  f 
I  said,  I  will  never  again  shoot  at  anything  that 
hasn't  the  power  to  shoot  back, —  and  I  never 
have.'  My  friend's  comment  was  '  It  does  one's 
heart  good  to  hear  great  rough  men  speak  s*o 
tenderly  of  helpless  creatures.' 

Our  talks  on  dumb  animals  began  with  Mr. 
Leigh's  questions  about  a  future  life.  I  cannot 


FOR  PITY'S  SAKE.  135 

look  upon  the  innocent  suffering  in  this  world 
without  indulging  in  a  hope  so  strong  that  it 
is  akin  to  belief,  that  there  will  be  a  future 
where  dumb  creatures  that  have  had  a  joyless 
existence  here  will  find  recompense.  It  is  said 
that  Professor  Agassiz  believed  firmly  in  a  here 
after  for  the  lower  orders  of  creation.  John 
Wesley  said  of  dumb  animals  :  '  I  fear  to  deny 
that  they  have  a  future  life.'  You  remember 
Martin  Luther's  letters  to  his  little  son,  where 
he  drew  such  fascinating  pictures  of  the  pleas 
ures  of  good  little  boys  in  heaven.  The  wise 
man,  knowing  how  to  make  the  heavenly  fields 
most  attractive,  did  not  forget  to  put  a  pony 
there.  Biographers  tell  us  of  the  gentle  St. 
Francis,  that  his  life  was  full  of  deeds  of  love 
and  charity  to  suffering  humanity,  and  that  his 
tenderness  to  animals  '  was  one  of  his  most 
winning  features.'  When  he  preached  his 
simple  gospel  to  the  birds,  he  must  have  be 
lieved  that  they  had  some  share  in  the  light 
and  hope  that  brighten  the  life  of  man.  How 
often  we  read  between  the  lines  of  noble  poems 
the  underlying  thought,  that  the  sufferings  of 
the  brute  creation  will  not  be  forgotten  by 
man's  Redeemer  ;  that  there  will  yet  be  relief 
for  the  whole  creation  that  groaneth  and  tra- 
vaileth  in  pain. 


136  FOR  PITY'S  SAKE. 

George  MacDonald,  in  his  lecture  on  'The 
Hope  of  the  Universe '  avows  his  belief  in  the 
doctrine  of  animal  immortality.  President 
Angell,  who  has  doubtless  done  as  much  for 
the  benefit  of  dumb  animals  as  any  man  living, 
says,  '  I  don't  know  anything  about  it  ; '  but 
from  the  trend  of  the  passages  of  Scripture 
quoted  so  fluently  in  one  of  his  addresses,  it  is 
easy  enough  to  see  what  he  thinks  about  it. 
Many  celebrated  divines  have  declared  their 
faith  in  this  doctrine.  I  have  seen  it  stated 
that  this  belief  is  held  by,  at  least,  one  half  of 
the  human  race. 

I  read  not  long  ago  in  a  copy  of  '  Our  Dumb 
Animals  '  the  pretty  legend  of  the  old  Indian 
and  his  dog  travelling  together  to  the  happy 
hunting-grounds.  By  the  way,  that  little 
paper,  or  '  Our  Animal  Friends '  ought  to  be 
in  every  family  in  the  land.  One  cannot 
glance  over  a  copy  of  either,  without  laugh 
ing,  crying,  scolding,  and  devoutly  thanking 
Heaven  that  dumb  creatures  have  such 
brave  good  friends.  But  to  the  legend.  The 
old  chief  and  all  his  family  set  out  for  Paradise, 
the  happy  place  of  rest,  beyond  the  mountains 
and  the  river.  They  journeyed  on  and  on, 
across  dreary  deserts  and  over  mountains 
through  drifting  snow.  As  the  way  grew  more 


FOR  PITY'S  SAKE.  137 

rugged  his  people  became  disheartened,  and 
one  by  one,  they  sadly  turned  their  faces  home 
ward.  First,  the  old  chief's  wife  left  him. 
Then  his  son's  courage  failed  and  he  followed 
his  mother.  The  faithful  dog  looked  after  them 
whining  piteously,  but  went  on  with  his  master. 
The  servants  next  gave  way  in  despair  and 
begged  their  chief  to  return.  But  the  old  man, 
thinking  he  could  see  the  '  pearly  gates  of  the 
Golden  City '  in  the  bright  rays  of  the  setting 
sun,  determined  to  struggle  on  alone.  The 
dog  looked  with  mournful  eyes  into  his  mas 
ter's  face,  but  refused  to  leave  him.  Day  after 
day  they  trudged  along  the  rough  way,  foot 
sore,  hungry  and  weary.  When  within  sight  of 
the  heavenly  city,  the  brave  old  man  sank 
down,  overcome  by  cold  and  fatigue.  The  dog 
would  not  let  him  perish.  He  licked  his  face 
and  hands,  nestled  close  to  him  and  kept  the 
warmth  in  his  feeble  body,  constantly  making 
sharp  cries  to  arouse  him.  The  chief  awoke, 
and  again  stumbling  on,  the  pair  soon  reached 
the  gate  of  Paradise.  He  knocked  and  begged 
to  be  allowed  to  enter,  together  with  his  faith 
ful  dog.  St.  Peter  answered,  '  No  dogs  are 
admitted  here.  You  may  come  in,  but  he  must 
be  left  outside.'  In  vain  the  old  chief  begged 
and  pleaded.  The  answer  was  the  same.  'The 


138  FOR  PITY'S  SAKE. 

dog  must  remain  without.'  'Then  I  will  stay 
with  him/  cried  the  Indian.  '  I  will  be  as  true 
to  him  as  he  has  been  to  me.  I  will  not  desert 
him,  even  for  Paradise.' 

The  chieftain  turned  to  go,  looking  down  to 
his  faithful  companion,  his  hand  outstretched 
to  pat  him  lovingly  ;  but  lo  !  there  was  no  dog 
there.  In  his  place  stood  a  glorious,  shining 
being  with  great  wistful  eyes  full  of  love  and 
pity.  A  sweet  voice  said,  '  I  was  your  guardian 
angel.  If  you  had  not  been  true  to  me  I  could 
never  have  guided  you  through  that  weary 
journey  to  this  blissful  end.  Now  we  will  go 
within  these  gates  and  be  happy  forever.'  The 
pearly  gates  were  thrown  open  wide,  and  the 
white-winged  being  triumphantly  led  the  old 
Indian  into  the  Golden  City." 

There  was  silence  for  a  moment  at  the  close 
of  this  pathetic  little  story,  and  to  some  of  us 
the  pearly  gates  seemed  not  so  very  far  away, 
as  we  saw  in  imagination  the  uncouth  figure  of 
the  weary  old  Indian  with  his  shining  com 
panion  passing  through  their  portals.  A  little 
rustle,  a  long  breath  or  two  followed  the  hush. 
Miss  Kate,  then  turning  to  a  young  man  who 
had  been  a  quiet  earnest  listener,  said,  "Aren't 
we  going  to  hear  from  you  Mr.  Turner  ?  How 
can  you  sit  all  this  time  without  speaking  a 


FOR  PITY'S  SAKE.  139 

word  ?     We  shall  be  disappointed  if  we  don't 
have  a  few  valuable  points  from  you." 

THE  BANKER'S  POINTS. 

"  You  have  heard. the  story  of  the  old  coun 
try-woman,  who,  after  the  death  of  her 
husband,  was  asked  by  a  condoling  neighbor  if 
he  was  reconciled  to  going.  '  Reconciled  ! ' 
she  answered 'in  a  surprised  tone,  *  Why!  He 
was  obleeged  to  go  !  —  he  was  obleeged  to  ! ' 
I  have  been  '  obleeged '  to  keep  silence,  for  you 
haven't  given  me  a  chance  to  get  in  a  word 
edge-wise.  Now  that  I  have  the  floor,  I  will 
gladly  give  a  few  points  on  the  care  of  some  of 
the  unhappy  creatures  that  you  have,  thus  far, 
overlooked.  How  about  cows,  calves,  oxen, 
sheep,  mules,  caged  birds,  and  all  the  little  wild 
things  that  naughty  boys  capture  and  keep  in 
wretched  confinement  ?  You  are  not  going  to 
talk  all  night  and  give  them  the  go-by,  are 
you?  I  have  seen,  this  summer  in  this  goodly 
town,  cows  and  calves  tethered  out  all  day  long 
in  the  burning  sun  where  the  heat  was  intoler 
able.  Everybody  ought  to  know  that  all  bovine 
brutes  love  the  shade  at  noon-day,  and  need  it, 
too,  as  much  as  the  two-legged  brutes  who 
leave  them  tied  out  to  suffer,  while  they  have  a 
pipe  or  a  nap  on  the  cool  corner  of  the  porch. 


140  FOR  PITY'S  SAKE. 

We  buy  the  heated,  unhealthful  milk  of  these 
exhausted  creatures  for  our  children  to  drink. 
Milk  is  so  sweet  and  pure  in  the  country  you 
know  ?  Perhaps,  if  people  who  treat  their  cows 
so,  knew  that  they  would  get  more  milk  and 
richer  cream  by  making  the  creatures  com 
fortable  with  plenty  of  shade  and  water,  they 
would  not  be  so  thoughtless.  Sometimes, 
hearts  can  be  touched  through  the  pocket 
when  all  other  avenues  are  closed. 

Then  in  winter,  go  into  old-fashioned  country 
barns.  Look  at  the  long  rows  of  cattle  stand 
ing  patient  and  spiritless,  each  head  cruelly 
fixed  in  a  vice ;  the  creatures  huddled  so  closely 
together,  that  when  lying  down,  the  space  al 
lowed  them  is  all  too  narrow  and  too  short  for 
comfort.  Watch  them,  as  with  heads  fast  in 
the  stanchions  they  try  to  lie  down,  or  make 
frantic  struggles  to  get  upon  their  feet,  and  tell 
me  :  What  has  civilization  done  for  cows  ?  The 
comfort  and  health  of  these  mild-eyed,  milk- 
giving  animals  so  indispensable  to  us,  should 
be  guarded  by  the  laws  of  our  land  with  as 
much  care  as  foreign  potentates  give  to  the 
nurses  of  royal  children. 

I  lived  on  a  farm  when  I  was  a  boy,  and  I 
think  I  could  drive  an  ox  team  through  Wall 
Street  to-day.  Not  long  ago,  a  man  went  past 


FOR  PITY'S  SAKE.  141 

here  with  two  yoke  of  oxen  hitched  to  a  heavy 
load  of  wood.  He  walked  beside  the  leaders, 
every  now  and  then,  goading  them  with  his 
brad  or  swinging  the  lash  right  across  their 
faces.  All  the  time,  the  leaders  were  drawing 
the  entire  load  and  nearly  pulling  the  yoke 
over  the  heads  of  the  slower  walkers  behind. 
I  wanted  to  thrash  the  brute,  —  the  driver  I 
mean,  not  one  of  the  patient  toilers  that  he 
called  brutes.  It  is  downright  cruelty  to  com 
pel  oxen  to  draw  heavy  loads  up  hill,  or  to  hold 
them  back  when  going  down,  with  no  help 
whatever  from  modern  contrivances.  In  some 
places  they  are  driven  sensibly,  in  strong  leather 
harnesses.  The  yoke  used  to-day  is  made 
after  the  same  pattern  as  the  one  used  by  Job  ; 
at  any  rate,  that  hasn't  been  greatly  improved 
upon.  Some  scientific  observer  has  saidvthat 
the  yoke  puts  the  strain  on  a  spot  never  in 
tended  for  it  by  nature.  The  intentions  of 
nature  are  too  often  ignored  by  man  to  his  own 
disadvantage. 

I  am  glad  that  the  horrible  fashion  of  de 
horning  cattle  doesn't  prevail  in  this  region. 
'Tis  passing  strange  that  a  practice  so  inhuman 
can  prevail  anywhere  in  a  civilized  land.  Did 
the  Creator  make  a  blunder  when  he  provided 
horns  ?  In  some  places,  great  herds  of  these 


142  FOR  PITY'S  SAKE. 

creatures  are  driven,  one  at  a  time,  into  a 
modern  torture-chamber  and  securely  fastened. 
The  horns  are  then  sawed  off,  like  sticks  of 
dead  wood,  with  a  common  saw.  Sometimes, 
the  poor  beasts  are  so  maddened  by  the  pain 
that  they  stumble  blindly  over  each  other  in 
their  agony.  Sometimes,  vermin  infest  the 
wounds  and  death  follows  ;  but  a  few  deaths 
don't  count,  among  so  many  thousands  that  re 
cover.  It  is  still  thought  very  important  that 
horns  should  be  removed,  no  note  being  taken 
of  the  needless  suffering  caused  by  this  cruel 
treatment.  No  doubt,  in  time,  Legislatures 
will  put  a  stop  to  this  harsh  practice.  The 
rights  of  dumb  animals  will  yet  be  considered, 
.although  progress  in  that  direction  is  discour- 
agingly  slow.  The  suffering  of  cattle  in  trans 
portation  both  by  sea  and  land  ;  the  agonies 
the  helpless  creatures  endure  from  cold,  hun 
ger  and  thirst  in  winter  on  the  plains,  their 
poor  bodies  torn  by  barbed  wire  fences  ; — Oh  ! 
the  amount  of  this  wholesale  distress  is  be 
yond  exaggeration  !  One  would  think  that  the 
wail  of  it  would  move  our  country's  law-makers 
to  devise  some  means  of  relief.  The  same 
thing  goes  on  at  the  great  sheep  ranches,  hun 
dreds  of  thousands  dying  in  a  single  winter 
from  starvation  and  cold. 


FOR  PITY'S  SAKE.  143 

The  pig  is  an  animal  that  has  far  more  in 
telligence  than  it  gets  credit  for.  I  have  heard 
professional  trainers  say  that  pigs  can  be 
taught  quite  as  easily  as  dogs.  Pigs  are  every 
where  abused  by  being  kept  in  cold,  wet  pens, 
and  fed  with  refuse  that  should  be  given  to  no 
creature, —  certainly  not  to  one  that  is  designed 
for  food  in  its  turn.  Pigs  enjoy  a  warm  bed 
and  plenty  of  clean  straw.  When  they  wallow 
in  the  mire  it  is  usually  because  it  is  the  only 
thing  provided  for  them  to  wallow  in.  It  is  a 
fact,  that  in  country  towns,  hogs  are  slaugh 
tered  in  a  most  atrocious  manner.  That  is  a 
matter  which  should  everywhere  be  regulated 
by  proper  authorities. 

Now  I  come  to  the  mule.  You  laugh  !  Why 
does  everybody  laugh  at  the  mule  ?  I  know  he 
isn't  handsome,  and  sometimes,  as  the  little 
boy  said  of  his  pony,  '  He  is  tame  in  front,  and 
wild  behind.'  A  part  of  Charles  Dudley 
Warner's  description  of  the  camel  well  fits  the 
mule.  '  For  skin,  he  has  patches  of  old  buffalo 
robes,  faded  and  with  the  hair  worn  off.  His 
tail  is  a  ridiculous  wisp,  a  failure  as  an  orna 
ment  or*  a  fly  brush.'  The  world  is  however 
deeply  in  debt  to  this  vilified  animal  and  very 
unwilling  to  give  him  the  credit  that  is  his  just 
due.  Now  that  southern  negroes  are  acquiring 


144  FOR  PITY'S  SAKE. 

property,  it  is  a  poor  negro  who  cannot  own  a 
mule.  God  pity  the  mule  !  underfed,  over 
worked,  jerked  about  and  belabored  :  What 
chance  does  the  creature  have  to  grow  beautiful 
or  saintly  ?  I  was  in  a  southern  city  last 
winter  when  mule  power  on  the  street  cars  was 
changed  for  modern  motive  power,  and  I  never 
after,  saw  a  car  go  past  without  mentally  say 
ing,  "Thank  God!"  I  knew  one  mule  there  that 
was  a  wonder.  He  was  an  extra, —  used  to 
help  draw  the  cars  up  a  steep  incline  and  over 
a  bridge.  No  one  seemed  to  have  him  in 
charge.  When  cars  were  coming  thick  and 
fast  he  trotted  briskly  down  the  slope  to  meet 
them.  When  no  car  was  in  sight  he  walked 
leisurely  on  enjoying  his  freedom.  He  at 
tended  to  the  whole  business  himself  except 
hitching  and  unhitching,  managed  his  affairs 
with  so  much  ability  and  performed  his  duties 
so  faithfully,  that  he  glorified  his  whole  race  of 
mules.  I  wonder  where  the  poor  fellow  is,  now 
his  occupation  is  gone. 

I  knew  another  wise  mule ;  he  saved  three 
precious  lives  by  refusing  to  ford  a  Florida 
river.  He  could  neither  be  induced  nor  com 
pelled  to  set  foot  into  the  stream.  The  little 
party  was  obliged  to  give  up  the  day's  outing 
on  the  other  side,  and  return  home  with 


FOR  PITY'S  SAKE.  145 

colors  trailing.  Tim  got  an  extra  measure  of 
corn  when  it  became  known  that  his  ob 
stinacy,  (?)  in  refusing  to  cross  a  dangerously 
swollen  ford,  had  saved  himself  and  his  best 
friends  from  a  watery  grave.  This  same  Tim 
had  been  used  to  haul  lumber  before  being  pro 
moted  to  the  dignity  of  a  family  mule.  One 
•day  the  force  of  habit  got  the  better  of  his 
common  sense  in  a  funny  way.  He  was  jog 
ging  along  with  his  family  behind  him,  when, 
suddenly  pricking  up  his  ears,  he  started  off  at 
a  brisk  pace  from  no  apparent  cause.  While 
they  wondered  what  queer  notion  had  got  into 
Tim's  head,  he  turned  aside  into  the  pine 
woods,  and,  deftly  wheeling  about,  backed  them 
up  against  a  pile  of  lumber.  He  stood  still  a 
moment,  then  locked  back  reprovingly  as  if  to 
say,  '  You  ought  to  be  loading  lumber  instead 
of  sitting  there  la'ighiLj.' 

Another  familiai  object  that  is  not  half  so 
black  as  it  is  pal  -*-**  is  the  crow.  Everyman's 
hand  is  against  him,  i£  V.  would  have  been 
wiped  off  the  face  of  the  es.r  ^  long  ago  if  his 
wits  hadn't  saved  him.  He  su^eeds  in  helping 
himself  to  what  he  wants,  in  the  face  of  scare 
crows  and  all  the  devices  to  entrap  him,  which 
only  make  him  the  more  suspicious  and  alert. 
It  would  be  hard  to  find  a  wiser  bird  than  the 


146  FOR  PITY'S  SAKE. 

crow.  I  think  the  farmers  will  yet  learn  that  it 
pays  better  to  share  the  crops  with  the  crows, 
than  to  leave  the  whole  to  the  tender  mercies 
of  the  pests  that  these  birds  destroy.  The 
crow  is  an  insect  destroyer  of  the  first  magni 
tude,  though  he  makes  no  secret  of  the  fact 
that  he  is  fond  of  corn.  If  man  should  succeed 
in  exterminating  the  race,  he  would  soon  see 
the  folly  of  it.  Birds  are  man's  natural  allies, 
from  the  dainty  little  wood-pecker  to  the  great 
carrion-eater,  and  man  does  himself  good  ser 
vice  when  he  protects  them.  In  fact,  man 
does  himself  good  service  when  he  makes  any 
of  the  lower  creatures  his  friends. 

Love  and  kind  treatment  will  win  almost 
any  animal  under  the  sun.  Rosa  Bonheur  says, 
'If  you  want  animals  to  love  you,  you  must 
love  them.'  Look  at  her, —  with  a  whole 
menagerie  trooping  after  her  every  time  she 
goes  out  to  walk  at  Fontainebleau,  and  you  will 
believe  that  she  has  proved  her  own  recipe. 
The  story  of  the  lioness,  that  died  in  her  arms 
at  the  foot  of  the  stair-case  at  Pau,  is  most 
touching.  The  great  creature,  using  the  last 
remnant  of  its  waning  strength  to  lick  the  dear 
hand  of  its  mistress,  gives  an  illustration  with 
out  a  parallel,  of  the  power  of  love  on  the 
brute  creation.  It  is  something  to  be  proud  of 


FOR  PITY'S  SAKE.  147 

to  be  loved  by  a  lion.  I  should  like  to  have 
one  for  a  pet.  There  is  no  comfort  in  looking 
at  the  creatures  in  a  menagerie,  or  a  zoo. 
There  is  something  too  pitiful  and  pathetic  for 
pleasure,  in  the  sight  of  splendid  great  wild 
beasts  behind  the  bars  of  cages  in  which  they 
can  scarcely  turn  round,  when  we  know  that 
their  natures  demand  a  mountain  side  for  a 
single  leap.  Then  think  of  the  elephants  that 
are  chained  by  the  legs  all  through  the  long 
winter.  To  be  sure,  they  can  lie  down  and  get 
up.  They  can  sway  their  huge  bodies,  to  and 
fro,  in  a  restless  agony.  It  is  all  too  much  for 
me.  We  have  to  shut  our  eyes  to  many  things 
that  we  cannot  relieve. 

I  have  a  word  to  say  about  caged  birds. 
From  the  king  of  the  iorest  to  a  canary,  you 
may  think  is  firing  wild,  but  you  know  the 
poet  says  — 

*  He  prayeth  best  who  loveth  most 
All  things  both  great  and  small, 
For  the  dear  God  who  loveth  us, 
He  made  and  loveth  all.' 

Caged  birds  are  about  as  helpless  innocents  as 
can  be  found  anywhere.  It  is  surprising 
that  so  many  people  forget  to  feed  and  water 
them.  They  will  sing,  without  a  seed  or  a  drop 
of  water,  as  long  as  there  is  breath  enough  in 


148  FOR  PITY'S  SAKE. 

their  little  bodies  to  make  a  sound.  Perhaps 
the  poor  things  try  to  call  attention  to  their 
wants  in  that  way.  I  was  a  great  bird-fancier 
when  I  was  young,  and  now,  when  I  see  a  bird 
cage,  I  go  straight  to  it  from  force  of  early 
habit.  You  would  hardly  believe  me  were  I  to 
tell  you  how  often  I  find  the  little  prisoners 
without  a  morsel  of  food  or  a  drop  to  drink. 
People  who  can't  take  proper  care  of  birds 
might,  at  least,  open  the  door  and  give  them 
their  liberty.  Every  mother's  son  who  cages  a 
wild  bird  should  be  compelled  to  do  so. 

I  am  sorry  to  say  it,  —  but  I  believe  that 
boys  are  born  cruel.  It  may  be  that  a  remnant 
of  savagery  inherited  from  far-away  ancestors 
crops  out  in  the  youth  of  to-day,  and  it  is  left 
for  environment  to  perfect  their  civilization. 
At  any  rate,  one  can't  begin  too  early  to  fan  the 
little  spark  of  human  kindness  that  may  be  in  a 
boy's  heart,  or  to  kindle  one  there,  in  case  of 
utter  dearth.  You  know  Dr.  Holmes  said  that 
to  produce  a  perfect  man  you  must  begin  a 
hundred  years  before  he  is  born.  If  we  wish, 
in  the  course  of  two  or  three  generations,  to 
perfect  in  man  that  higher  nature,  that  finer 
feeling  which  shows  itself  in  kindness  to  all 
living  things,  now  is  the  time  to  begin  vigor 
ously  with  the  children  of  to-day.  Heroic  treat- 


FOR  PITY'S  SAKE.  149 

ment  sometimes  works  well.  I  know  one  small 
boy  who  got  pinched,  himself,  every  time  he 
pinched  the  cat.  It  had  the  desired  effect  in 
his  case,  though  I  would,  by  no  means,  recom 
mend  that  plan  on  general  principles. 

One  morning  on  my  way  to  the  station,  I 
came  upon  three  or  four  little  ragamuffins  mak 
ing  ready  to  throw  stones  at  a  harmless  toad. 
I  felt  like  throwing  stones  at  them  ;  but,  con 
trolling  my  desire  for  vengeance  on  the  spot, 
I  took  the  toad  and  carried  it  away,  after  giving 
the  boys  a  lesson  they'll  not  soon  forget. 
Another  morning,  I  saw  four  full-grown  school 
boys  tormenting  one  small  kitten.  I  took 
the  kitten  as  I  did  the  toad  ;  after  telling  the 
boys  that  if  they  should  live  to  become  men 
they  would  be  ashamed  of  themselves.  I  am 
glad  to  say  that  they  looked  a  bit  ashamed  be 
fore  I  left  them.  If  those  boys  had  been 
taught,  at  home  and  in  school,  to  protect  the 
harmless  little  creatures  that  cross  their  path  ; 
if  their  true  relations  to  animal  life  had  been 
made  plain  to  them  ;  I  believe  they  would  never 
have  stooped  to  such  meanness.  I  haven't  said 
a  word  about  horses  ;  but  there  are  few  things 
that  make  me  more  righteously  wrathy  than  to 
see  a  man  trying  to  back  a  horse  by  yanking  at 
his  mouth,  pulling  his  head  back  on  one  side, 


150  FOR  PITY'S  SAKE. 

doubling  his  body  up  like  a  hoop  ;  thus  destroy 
ing  the  creature's  power  to  back  the  load,  and 
causing  him  such  physical  pain  that  he  forgets 
what  was  required  of  him.  A  little  time,  and 
some  patient  kindness,  is  necessary  to  teach  a 
horse  to  back,  at  the  word  ;  but  it  is  well  worth 
while.  His  strength  can  then  be  saved  for  the 
labor,  and  need  not  be  worried  out  of  him  in 
the  stupid  way  it  is  so  often  done.  Another 
thing :  Horses  are  often  run  down  in  health 
and  strength  because  their  teeth  are  in  such 
condition  that  they  cannot  eat.  Their  teeth 
should  be  well  -cared  for,  —  not  by  a  blunderer, 
but  by  a  skilled  veterinary.  Horse  dentistry  is 
a  profession  not  yet  over  crowded. 

So  many  points  come  to  my  mind  —  I  don't 
know  when  to  stop  talking.  Think  of  the  bar 
barism  displayed  in  the  killing  of  seals  ;  those 
soft-eyed  innocents  with  half-human  faces ! 
Think  of  the  sports,  of  the  lords  of  creation  ;  of 
all  the  killing  for  fun,  that  is  going  on  among 
them  !  And  last,  —  and  worst  of  all ;  the 
atrocious  cruelties  that  are  practiced  in  secret 
places,  — in  the  name  of  science  ! 

Will  some  one  please  change  the  subject?" 

"What  did  you  do  with  your  toad,  Mr. 
Turner  ?  "  asked  one. 

"  I  dropped  him  over  a  fence  into  a  flower 


FOR  PITY'S  SAKE.  151 

garden.  I  would  pay  a  man  to  put  toads  into 
my  garden.  They  wage  constant  warfare  on 
slugs  and  worms,  attend  steadily  to  business 
and  work  for  nothing.  The  toad  is  very  use 
ful,  although  not  remarkably  brilliant.  He 
may  lack  intelligence,  as  a  writer  in  '  Our  Ani 
mal  Friends'  says,  'simply  because  he  comes 
from  a  long  line  of  uneducated  ancestors.' ' 

"  And  what  became  of  your  kitten  ?  " 

"  I  noticed,  when  I  drew  near  the  next  house, 
that  the  thing  wanted  to  get  away,  so  I  went  to 
the  door  and  rang  the  bell.  A  pretty  little  girl 
answered  my  call,  and  by  the  way  she  cuddled 
up  her  treasure,  and  from  the  size  of  the  small 
cat's  purr,  I  knew  that  I  need  give  myself  no 
further  trouble  about  that  cat.  She  thanked 
me  heartily  for  rescuing  it  and  said  she  wished 
boys  wouldn't  be  such  savages." 

"  This  is  quite  a  new  phase  in  your  character 
Mr.  Turner,  I  had  no  idea  that  you  were  so 
practical  a  philanthropist,"  said  a  lady  smiling. 

"  I  don't  make  much  fuss  about  it  "  replied 
Mr.  Turner,  "  but  I  seldom  let  a  chance  go  by 
to  help  out  the  under  dog.  I  beg  your  pardon 
for  talking  so  long.  Let  us  hear  from  you,  Mr. 
Horton." 

"  I  was  thinking  up  something  to  say  when 
you  began,"  answered  Mr.  Horton,  a  benevolent 


152  FOR  PITY'S  SAKE. 

looking  gentleman  with  a  long  white  beard,  and 
a  glory  of  white  hair  upon  his  head.  "  But, 
to  tell  you  the  truth,  Mr.  Turner,  I  am 
struck  dumb.  I  supposed  the  only  animals  you 
knew  anything  about,  were  bulls  and  bears. 
Here  you  have  run  through  the  whole  gamut 
of  creation  from  the  leviathan  to  a  microbe,, 
and  you  are  equally  at  home  with  them  all.  I'll 
not  attempt  to  tell  what  I  know  about  farming, 
but  after  you  have  talked  yourselves  out,  I  will 
read  a  few  newspaper  clippings  that  I  have  in 
my  pocket." 

"Mr.  Turner,"  said  a  bright-eyed,  pretty  girl, 
a  pink  flush  suffusing  her  fair  face  as  she  spoke, 
"  I  don't  think  all  boys  are  cruel.  I  know  one 
—  a  pretty  big  boy,  too,  —  who  wasn't  ashamed 
to  pick  up  in  the  street  a  dirty,  starved,  half- 
frozen  little  kitten  and  carry  it  home.  He 
told  his  mother  that  it  looked  up  at  him  in  such 
a  pitiful  way,  he  couldn't  pass  by  and  leave  it. 
It  shall  have  a  warm  supper  and  one  good 
night's  rest,  he  said,  and  if  we  think  best,  I 
will  put  an  end  to  its  miseries  in  the  morning. 
The  poor  thing  looked  up  now  and  then,  while 
eating,  as  if  to  say  :  <  This  is  something  new,  I 
was  never  fed  before.'  It  went  to  sleep  on  a 
soft  cushion  and  slept  so  soundly,  they  thought 
it  must  be  dead.  In  the  morning  it  was  so 


FOR  PITY'S  SAKE.  153 

happy  and  grateful,  —  they  hadn't  the  heart  to 
do  anything  but  to  give  the  kitty  a  new  lease  of 
life, —  a  life  worth  living,  too.  It  is  now  as 
handsome  a  cat  as  I  ^ever  saw.  It  has  a  velvety 
coat,  most  beautifully  marked  They  all  say 
that  Tom  attracts  more  attention  than  any 
other  member  of  the  family.  I  don't  think  he 
has  forgotten  how  he  was  rescued  on  that  cold, 
stormy  day,  for  he  has  always  been  perfectly 
devoted  to  the  good  Samaritan  who  wouldn't 
pass  by  and  leave  him  to  perish." 

With  a  graceful  bow  to  the  young  lady,  Mr. 
Turner  said,  "  Long  may  the  handsome  cat 
live  to  disprove  my  sweeping  assertion." 
Then,  turning  to  Miss  Kate,  he  added,  "  Here  is 
Mrs.  Hale.  A  good  whip  as  she  is,  must  have 
had  adventures  worth  the  telling.  And  please, 
do  not  let  Dr.  Sampson  off  without  a  word." 

THE    "  GOOD    WHIP'S  "    STORY. 

"  Nothing  at  all  thrilling,  but  such  as  I  have 
had  I  willingly  give  you.  I  lived,  the  first 
eighteen  years  of  my  life,  on  a  farm  that  bor 
dered  on  a  country  village.  I  was  born  a  tom 
boy,  and  stood  at  the  head  of  the  torn-boy  class 
until  I  was  sent  away  to  school  where  I  soon 
found  that  many  of  my  early  accomplishments 
counted  little  towards  raising  my  standing.  I 


154  FOR  PITY'S  SAKE. 

ought  to  be  a  good  whip,  for  I  cannot  remem 
ber  a  time  when  I  didn't  ride  and  drive.  My 
father  gave  me  my  first  lesson  in  horse-back 
riding  when  I  was  a  baby.  How  I  loved  the 
glorious  out-of-door  life  with  the  endless  variety 
of  pleasures  brought  by  the  changing  seasons. 
I  knew  where  to  find  the  first  downy  catkins  of 
the  pussy-willow  that  ventured  out  of  their  win 
ter  hiding-places  ;  the  first  twigs  of  red  maple 
that  blossomed  down  by  the  babbling  brook ; 
the  first  starry  hepatica  and  dear  little  blue 
eyed  violet  that  lifted  their  heads  from  the 
mossy  bank  ;  and  so  on,  through  the  long  suc 
cession  of  nature's  treasures,  to  the  beautiful 
fringed  gentian  in  the  meadow  and  the  weird, 
lone  blossom  of  the  witch-hazel  in  the  wood. 

'  After  dandelions,  buttercups, 

After  buttercups,  clover, 

One  blossom  follows  another 

Over,  and  over,  and  over. 

And  the  sweet  satisfying  green 

Is  round  about  them  all ; 
First  to  be  here  in  the  spring-time, 

Staying  last  in  the  fall. 

Just  as  God's  love  is  first  and  last, 

With  human  loves  between 
Successive  blossoms  which  He  sends 

Through  His  all  present  green.' 

My  home  was  a  rambling,  old-fashioned,   vine- 


FOR  PITY'S  SAKE.  155 

covered  farm-house,  always  full  of  merry  boys 
and  girls  and  their  pets.  My  mother  was  one 
to  whom  all  the  neighbors  came  for  help  in 
time  of  poverty,  illness,  or  sorrow.  No  one 
ever  went  awa*y  without  relief  and  comfort. 
My  father  was  one  of  nature's  noblemen.  His 
great,  strong  soul  so  full  of  tenderness  that  it 
grieved  him  to  see  the  least  little  creature  suf 
fer.  I  remember  how  he  watched  and  tended 
a  lamb  with  a  broken  leg  as  lovingly  as  if  it 
had  been  a  little  child.  Dumb  animals  were 
our  playmates  in  childhood,  and  we  grew  up  in 
this  atmosphere  of  kindness  to  all  God's  creat 
ures.  We  fed  the  birds  in  winter,  in  a  box 
fastened  to  a  tree  near  the  house.  One  winter 
a  red  squirrel  came  with  the  birds  every  morn 
ing  when  not  prevented  by  deep  snow.  It  was 
great  fun  to  hear  him  scold  at  a  blue-jay  that 
was  not  over  modest  m  claiming  his  share  of 
the  good  things  in  the  box.  The  chickadees 
hopped  on  our  wrists  and  ate  from  our  hands. 
Crows  alighted  on  a  great  boulder  near  by. 
They  paid  well  for  the  food  they  found  there 
by  giving  us  a  charming  picture, —  framed  in 
one  of  our  dining-room  windows.  We  called 
the  horses  and  cows  by  name,  and  they  came 
at  our  call.  Knowing  no  fear,  expecting  only 
kindness,  they  were,  as  a  rule,  gentle  and  easily 


\ 

/ 


156  FOR  PITY'S  SAKE. 

managed.  One  day,  a  new  hired  man  came 
hurrying  to  the  house.  Wiping  the  perspi 
ration  from  his  face,  he  said,  '  I  can't  catch 
that  blamed  pony  no  how  —  I've  been  chasin' 
him  round  trying  to  drive  him  into  the  barn 
for  an  hour.  I'm  fagged  out, —  but  he's  as 
good  as  new.'  '  Perhaps  one  of  the  girls  will 
go  out  and  help  you,'  my  father  said,  with  a 
merry  glance  at  me.  I  went  with  him,  and, 
standing  in  the  open  door  of  the  barn,  whistled 
to  the  pony.  Lifting  his  head  at  once,  he 
came  flying  towards  the  gate,  almost  tumbling 
over  himself  in  his  haste  to  reach  us.  The 
pony  got  his  lump  of  sugar,  and  the  man  led 
him  away,  muttering,  '  Great  Caesar !  I  never 
see  the  likes  o'  that  afore.'  How  it  would 
startle  me,  to  see  my  own  little  girl  riding  a 
pony  without  saddle  or  bridle ;  or  driving  him 
across  the  field,  holding  on  for  dear  life  to  the 
end  of  his  long  tail.  My  pony  must  have 
timed  himself  to  favor  my  limitations,  for  I 
never  lost  my  hold  on  him,  although  I  came  in 
almost  breathless.  One  day,  in  a  frolic,  I  led 
the  pony  into  the  house.  That  was  vetoed, 
when,  a  few  days  later,  he  was  found  with  his 
head  in  the  china-closet  helping  himself  to 
apples.  My  pony  was  never  shod.  His  neat 
little  hoofs  were  like  vulcanised  rubber.  They 


FOR  PITY'S  SAKE.  157 

never  cracked  ;  and  a  surer  footed  little  beast 
never  lived. 

When  I  was  a  mere  child,  we  had  a  family 
horse,  that  for  sagacity  and  sound  common 
sense  I  have  never  seen  equalled.  Old  White- 
face  was  known  far  and  near,  and  my  father's 
confidence  in  her  was  everywhere  remarked. 
Our  school  was  half  a  mile  away,  and  on  stormy 
days  White-face  was  often  sent  with  us.  After 
putting  us  all  into  the  carryall,  my  father,  giv 
ing  me  the  reins,  would  say,  '  Let  them  lie 
loosely  on  her  back,  —  don't  pull  them  either 
way  —  and  before  you  get  out,  be  sure  to  fast 
en  them  up,  so  they  can't  fall  to  the  ground.' 
The  good  creature  always  carried  us  safely  to 
the  school-house  door ;  then,  turning  about, 
walked  home  in  a  most  dignified  way  as  if  she 
understood  the  responsibility  of  the  situation. 
I  have  known  my  father  to  send  her  home  alone, 
—  a  distance  of  ten  miles.  She  could  open  all 
the  gates  and  let  down  all  the  bars  on  the 
farm.  She  could  open  doors  and  feed-boxes  ; 
yet  she  never  got  into  trouble  nor  did  any 
harm.  When  there  was  a  colt  to  be  driven  for 
the  first  time,  it  was  harnessed  beside  White- 
face.  She  kept  it  straight  and  taught  it  how 
to  behave.  Her  cleverness  was  not  the  result 
of  training.  It  was  simply  horse-sense  de 


158  FOR  PITY'S  SAKE. 

veloped  under  kindly  treatment.  The  good 
creature  grew  to  be  old  in  our  service,  and, 
when  past  her  usefulness,  was  for  a  long  time 
tenderly  cared  for.  Not  until  she  was  so  in 
firm  that  life  was  a  burden  to  her,  was  it  merci 
fully  ended. 

Dear  old  White-face  disappeared  one  day,  — 
and  we  asked  no  questions.  Years  afterward, 
I  was  told  that  my  father  led  her  away  alone, 
and  although  it  made  the  good  man  ill,  he  did 
the  deed  himself,  because  he  knew  no  one 
whom  he  could  trust  to  give  her  a  painless 
death. 

You  say  I  am  a  'good  whip/  I  very  seldom 
drive  any  horse  but  my  own.  I  am  well  ac 
quainted  with  my  Beauty.  We  understand 
each  other.  He  is  full  of  spirit  and  fire,  but 
we  get  on  famously  together,  although  he 
might  easily  do  mischief  in  careless  hands. 
When  I  am  out  with  him  alone,  I  talk  to  him. 
I  know  he  understands  much  that  I  say.  I 
often  tell  him  where  to  go,  and  he  will  go 
direct-ly  to  the  spot  without  being  guided  at  all. 
One  day,  I  was  driving  him  down  a  steep  hill. 
I  was  in  a  light  carryall,  with  two  ladies  on 
the  back  seat.  A  nut  came  off  and  one  of  the 
shafts  dropped  to  the  gound.  That  was  a  peri 
lous  thing  to  happen.  The  carriage,  swaying 


True  Character  of  Vivisectors 

*     "I  do  not  believe  that  a  single  experi 
menter  says  to  himself  when  he  uiv.-s  nirari  to 
a  rabbit,  or  cuts  the   spinal   marrow  of  a  dotr 
or   poisons   a   frog,    "Here    is   an   experiment' 
which   will  relieve  or  will  cure  the  disease  of 
some  man."     No,  in  truth,  he  does  not  think  of 
'S'g   >»•=  -          v         He  »*y»  *>  Mmseif ,    «I  shall  clear  up  an 
2  S  |  J        55f*H   point;    Z  AviH   sef'k  out  a   new    fact. 
='   =    =   r  ~        All(1  lhls  scientific  curiosity  (italics  not  in  ori"- 
;    ^  ~    a.  c         l"al)  .W1luch  alo»e  animates  him,  is  explained  bv 
the  high  idea  he  has  formed  of   science      This 


,  '«v.v»  v*    o^icuct;.       ims 

*  Wfty  we  pass  our  days  in  f<etid  laboratories, 
V  =  =  £.  Mirroii.H  ed  by  groaning  creatures,  in  the  midst 
£  fe  J  o  S  of  blo<)(l  :l"(l  s'il!'erin«r,  bent  over  palpitatin- 
*  «  R  <^  J  entrails."— Dr.  Kichet,  of  Paris,  in  lie  me  de» 
l)<-n.r  Mondcs,  February  15,  1883. 


1 1  1 1  Medical  Faculty 

2  S  5  -r  •*  

=  t  ~   is  5  "Xothing  without  Cruelty"  mi-lit  really  be 

1  g   -    3    o  _       the  device   of  the   medical  profession   at  the 

rt   g   2   :  ^  '>,     J1"68!,11!,  moine»t-      If  a  remedy    be   proposed 

^   2   >  "7  .2  .t:      Bunded   on  a  Ion-  series   of  painful  expen- 

5   w     .  S    g  5      merits  on   animals,  it  is  received  at  once  with 

S  -3   S    5    =   S      acclammation  as  quite  sure  to  save  thousands  of 

£   3  -5  J  *   =      "J^'   ev^n  before  jt  lias   saved  a  single  one 

g»  2  S  S  =          '   ?n  ^e  contrary,  it  has  nothin-  to  do  with 

S  M5  I      T"     y-         any  kind'  then'  no  ma"er  what  evi- 

dence  is  produced  of  its  practical   efficacy,  or 

how    distinguished    may   be   the   name   of  its 

•riginator,  it  falls  as  dead  as  a  door-nail  on  the 

medical  ear.-(/<W,Ww>Y/,  Scotland,  Import  ) 


In  case  of  fire  in  stables,  put  a  saddle  on   a 
horse  and  he  can  be  lead  out  without  trouble. 


For  fits  or  blind  staggers,  do  not  resort  to 
the  usual  barbarous,  sickening  and  weakening 
method  of  bleeding,  but  do  as  the  famous  Henry 
Bergh's  Humane  Society  does — apply  ammonia 
to  the  nose  with  sponge  or  cloth,  and  the 
animal  will  at  once  recover.  Those  who  drive 
horses  liable  to  this  disease  should  always  carry 
a  bottle  when  driving  it. 


It  is  impossible  to  have  a  noble  and  right 
spirit  while  engaged  in  mean  and  cruel  transac 
tions.  Those  who  practise  cruelty  are  them 
selves  the  greatest  sufferers. 

In  character  building,  which  is  our  great 
business  in  this  world,  no  small  part  of  the 
work  is  done  by  our  treatment  of  the  animals 
committed  to  our  care. 


A  man  very  prominent  in  his  state  says: 
"  I  hope  there  is  a  heaven  for  horses;  they  have 
hell  enough  here"  16 ! 

from  side  to  side,  crowded  upon  Beauty,  but  he 
stopped  at  my  'whoa'  and  held  it  as  well  as  he 
could.  I  sprang  out  and  stood  by  him  while 
the  others  went  back  to  the  nearest  house  for 
help.  The  farmer  who  came  to  the  rescue, 
looking  at  the  creature  in  amazement,  said, 
*  That's  a  mighty  knowin'  hoss  youv'e  got,  — 
most  hosses  would  have  smashed  you  into 
kindlin' wood.'  '  Yes,'  said  I,  •'  It  was  nothing 
but  his  level  head  that  saved  us. 

Again,  I  was  driving  him  beside  another 
horse,  to  a  heavy  carriage,  when  the  pole-strap 
broke.  He  stopped  at  the  word,  and  stood 
still  until  the  damage  was  repaired.  He  often 
sees  things  that  startle  him,  and  a  looker-on 
might  think  an  accident  would  happen.  I 
have  only  to  tell  him  that  it  is  all  right.  He 
understands  'all  right,'  and  seems  to  trust  it 
perfectly.  Once,  he  refused  to  cross  a  bridge. 
Nothing  would  induce  him  to  set  foot  upon  it 
until  I  got  out,  —  stamped  on  the  planks  as  if 
trying  their  strength, — got  back  into  the  buggy 
telling  him,  as  usual,  that  it  was  all  right.  He 
was  satisfied  and  trotted  on  without  further 
question. 

Two  girls  who  were  here  last  summer,  begged 
me  to  let  them  take  Beauty  to  drive  out  two  or 
three  miles  to  do  an  errand.  I  consented 


i62  FOR  PITY'S  SAKE. 

rather  reluctantly  They  were  driving  along 
slowly  on  a  narrow  road,  wooded  on  one  side, 
a  steep  bank  covered  with  stones  on  the  other. 
With  no  warning  whatever,  a  large  white  dog 
sprang  over  the  wall  from  the  wood  with  one 
tremendous  bound,  landing  in  the  middle  of  the 
road  almost  under  Beauty's  nose.  The  horse 
did  exactly  what  any  of  us  would  have  done, 
-jumped,  or  rather,  shied  so  sharply  that  over 
went  the  buggy  and  out  went  the  girls.  One 
was  thrown  upon  the  rocks  and  stunned  by  the 
fall.  The  other  fell  to  the  ground,  her  head 
lying  between  the  wheels,  so  that  a  move  of  the 
carriage  either  way  might  have  been  fatal  to 
her.  The  horse,  alone,  understood  the  situation 
and  knew  how  much  depended  on  his  standing 
still.  He  did  not  lift  a  foot.  Some  men  at 
work  in  a  distant  field,  seeing  the  accident, 
ran  as  fast  as  they  could  to  the  spot.  Their 
account  of  Beauty's  good  behavior  rang  through 
the  town.  The  girls  were  pretty  well  shaken 
up  and  somewhat  bruised,  although  not  serious 
ly  hurt.  Nothing  was  broken,  in  carriage  or 
harness,  and  the  horse  came  home  as  quietly  as 
if  nothing  had  happened." 

"  Why  didn't  you  whip  him  when  he  balked 
.at  the  bridge  ?  "  asked  one. 

"Whip    him!"    cried    Mrs.    Hale,    « indeed 


FOR  PITY'S  SAKE.  163 

that  is  the  last  thing  that  would  have  entered 
my  head.  Supposing  you  were  afraid  to  cross 
a  bridge  because  you  thought  it  unsafe.  How 
would  you  like  to  be  whipped  for  it  ?  All  the 
horse  needed  was  to  have  me  show  him  that 
there  was  no  danger.  If  my  Beauty  had  been 
roughly  handled,  whipped  into  submission, 
knocked  about  with  no  regard  for  his  feelings, 
he  wouldn't  be  the  horse  that  he  is  to-day,  by 
any  means.  I  don't  believe  he  would  get 
through  a  week  without  figuring  in  an  accident, 
and  it  would  be  a  lively  one. 

Kind  masters  make  gentle  horses.  The  best 
horse  trainers  in  the  world  are  those  who  use 
apples  and  sugar-lumps  freely,  rather  than  the 
whip  and  loud  words.  Give  a  horse  a  bite  of 
green  grass  often,  and  he  will  follow  you  like  a 
dog.  It  is  an  insult  to  a  horse  to  compel  him 
to  eat  old,  dried  up,  last  year's  hay,  week  in  and 
week  out,  when  fresh,  juicy  grass  is  plenty  and 
growing  on  purpose  for  him.  The  notion  that 
grass  is  harmful  to  horses  is  soon  forgotten  by 
those  who  feed  it  freely.  It  is  their  natural 
food  and  most  horses  need  much  more  of  it 
than  they  get.  There  is  no  better  rule  to  fol 
low  in  our  treatment  of  the  horse,  than,  Put 
yourself  in  his  place,  and  Do  as  you  would  be 
done  by." 


164  FOR  PITY'S  SAKE. 

MR.  HORTON'S  CLIPPINGS. 

STARVING,    FREEZING,    CATTLE. 

"  A  correspondent  of  the  Milwaukee  Sentinel 
tells  this  pitiful  tale  of  what  he  saw  in  going  from 
Wisconsin  to  California  : 

*  Before  reaching  Kinsley,  and  between  Kinsley 
and  La  Junta,  the  fields  were  literally  covered  with 
dead  and  dying  cattle.  The  uncommon  cold  in 
Colorado  had  caused  them  to  go  south. 

Reaching  the  Sante  Fe  road,  their  further  pro 
gress  was  barred  by  wire  fences,  but  could  they 
have  passed  this,  the  .Arkansas  river,  which  is 
partly  frozen,  would  have  prevented  them  from 
reaching  any  more  southern  point.  Freezing,  and 
without  food,  there  was  nothing  for  them  to  do  but 
to  wait  for  death.  Their  lips  were  frozen  and  they 
were  unable  to  eat  the  bits  of  grass  that  were  above 
the  snow.  It  was  the  most  pitiful  sight,  I  trust, 
that  I  shall  ever  be  obliged  to  witness.  It  was  es 
timated  that  one  hundred  thousand  were  in  sight 
from  the  car  windows  ;  and  when  to  this  number  is 
added  the  almost  countless  herds  between  the  Ar 
kansas  river  and  northern  Colorado,  the  amount 
of  suffering  is  beyond  human  computation.  Many 
lay  under  the  wire  fences  dead,  having  pushed 
their  way  as  far  south  as  possible.  Little  calves 
leaned  against  the  wires  with  no  strength  to  release 
themselves  from  the  cruel  barbs,  —  waiting  for 
death.  At  Dodge  City,  where  we  were  detained  by 
a  wrecked  car,  the  starving  creatures  were  walking 


FOR  PITY'S  SAKE.  165 

through  the  town,  or  standing  with  their  mute  ap 
pealing  eyes  turned  toward  the  people,  who  were 
powerless  to  help.  The  white  snow  that  covered 
their  bodies  was  the  only  touch  of  mercy  that  we 
saw.  Some  of  them  were  Texan  cattle,  wholly  un 
fit  for  northern  climates  unless  sheltered  and  fed 
when  necessary. 

I  wonder  if  cattle  owners  could  have  taken  that 
ride,  made  solemn  by  the  suffering  of  helplessness, 
whether  their  hearts  would  have  been  stirred  with 
pity.  Whether  they  would  have  resolved  that 
henceforth  they  would  own  no  more  cattle  than 
they  could  protect  from  cold  and  starvation. 
Surely  the  moans  of  the  cattle  upon  the  thousand 
western  hills  ascend  unto  the  ear  of  the  Almighty. 
Thirteen  hundred  sheep  lay  in  one  pile,  — dead,  — 
frozen  to  death." 

ABOUT    POOR    PUSS. 

"  The  time  is  the  Spring.  Here  is  a  house  that 
has  been  dismantled  for  the  season.  The  last  load 
has  been  sent  off  on  the  van,  the  last  trunk  packed 
and  thrown  on  the  cab,  the  door  is  locked,  and  the 
family  are  off  with  hearts  and  heads  full  of  the  free 
dom,  and  beauty,  and  rest  lying  before  them.  Bid 
one  poor  little  heart  is  left  behind.  A  pretty  little 
purring  thing,  a  little  dependent,  has  been  thrown 
upon  the  cold  world  !  Her  friends  have  departed  — 
her  own  door  is  closed  against  her.  What  does 
she  do  when  she  discovers  the  dreadful  truth  that 
she  is  deserted  ?  I  have  known  a  cat  thus  deprived 


166  FOR  PITY'S  SAKE. 

of  its  home  to  stay  about  for  weeks  and  months, 
each  day  coming  back  to  ask  why  she  is  so  cruelly 
treated,  each  day  growing  dirtier  and  hungrier, 
more  hopeless,  unkempt  and  savage,  until  finally 
with  temper  ruined,  manners  noisy  and  rude,  coat 
all  ugly  with  dirt  and  scratches,  she  has  become  a 
wretched,  unhappy,  street  cat. 

One  of  these  poor  creatures  I  found  when  I  came 
home  last  autumn.  She  was  ill,  starving,  half 
blind  from  disease  ;  but  I  put  an  end  to  her  suffer 
ing  with  chloroform  as  soon  as  I  could  catch  her ; 
and  Oh  !  the  pity  of  it  !  I  found,  in  making  friends 
with  her  preparatory  to  my  treacherous  deed, 
that  she  had  been  somebody's  pet  for  she  was 
tame  and  affectionate  as  soon  as  she  heard  a 
friendly  voice  and  recognized  a  friendly  hand. 

Year  after  year  this  thing  happens,  and  it  will 
repeat  itself  this  year,  and  every  year  to  come,  un 
til  we  give  thought  and  take  pains  that  this  thing 
shall  not  go  on. 

Then  do  not  leave  a  creature  to  starve  in  the 
streets,  or  in  your  back-yard  —  whether  it  is  your 
own,  or  a  poor  stray  thing  that  comes  under  your 
notice.  If  you  cannot  provide  it  with  a  home,  send 
a  line  to  the  S.«  P.  C.  A.  saying  where  it  may  be 
found ;  and  they  will  send  an  agent  who  will  merci 
fully  end  its  life. 

If  we  have  allowed  the  ills  of  pain  and  hunger, 
and  homelessness  to  come  upon  a  helpless  creature, 
and  cannot  bring  it  back  to  a  happy  existence, 
surely  we  owe  it,  at  least,  a  merciful  death.  Does 


FOR  PITY'S  SAKE.  167 

it  seem  an  insignificant  subject  for  such  serious 
thought?  I  cannot  think  so,  nor,  that  weakness 
and  suffering,  wherever  found,  do  not  call  upon  us 
to  protect  and  spare  —  for  the  sake  of  the  depen 
dent  creature,  for  the  sake  of  our  own  souls,  for  the 
sake  of  God  who  alike  created  us  all."  —  Boston 
Transcript. 

A    VISIT    TO    PALO    ALTO. 

A  well  known  clergyman  of  Boston  says :  "  I 
learned  a  lesson  in  the  care  of  animals  at  Senator 
Stanford's  place  at  Palo  Alto,  California.  He 
took  me  out  to  see  the  colt's  kindergarten  where 
the  colts  are  taught  as  tenderly  as  little  children  in 
the  kindergarten.  Senator  Stanford  says  he  treats 
his  animals  like  intelligent  creatures,  studies  them 
to  find  out  what  they  are  capable  of,  and  trains 
them  to  do  what  they  have  the  ability  to  do.  Re 
sult  ;  —  his  yearlings,  two  year  old  and  three  year 
old  colts  have  beaten  the  record  of  the  world  on 
the  race  track.  It  was  his  invariable  rule,  if  a  man 
swore,  or  spoke  roughly,  or  under  any  provocation 
struck  a  horse,  to  discharge  him  instantly.  He 
finds  it  pays  to  treat  them  kindly,  tenderly  and  well. 
I  wish  all  the  world  could  see  his  methods  and 
learn  the  same  lesson.  What  he  could  teach  along 
that  line  should  win  him  the  gratitude  of  the 
ages."  —  Boston  Journal. 

"There  are  few  sins  more  heinous  and 
unpardonable  than  cruelty  to  animals, 
and  this  sin  covers  and  disgraces  the  whole 
world.  Is  a  drunkard  worse  than  he  who 
is  cruel  to  his  useful  domestic  animals? 
No.  The  Scriptures  say,  "No  drunkard 
shall  enter  the  Kingdom  of  ^Heaven." 
Where  then  will  the  torturers  of  animals  go  ? 


168  FOR  PITY'S  SAKE. 

DECALOGUE  FOR  ANIMALS. 
I 

TEN  RULES  ADOPTED  BY  THE  ROYAL  SOCIETY  FOR 
THE  PREVENTION  OF  CRUELTY. 

First.  —  No  one  has  a  right  to  keep  animals, 
either  for  use  or  pleasure,  unless  he  is  able  and 
willing  to  provide  them  with  whatever  is  necessary 
for  their  health  and  happiness.  No  animal  can  be 
healthy  and  happy  unless  it  is  kindly  treated,  com 
fortably  lodged,  regularly  fed,  supplied  with  water 
and  afforded  opportunities  of  recreation. 

Second.  —  Kind  and  gentle  treatment  is  due  to 
all  animals,  and  need  not  interfere  with  firmness  in 
governing  them.  Animals  are  often  thought  to  be 
ill  tempered  or  obstinate  when  they  are  really  suf 
fering  from  some  pain  or  irritation  the  cause  of 
which  is  not  seen,  but  which  may  be  soothed  by 
patience  and  quietness.  If  you  try  to  find  out  what 
is  the  matter  with  an  animal  before  you  punish  him, 
you  will  probably  find  that  there  is  no  reason  to 
punish  them.  Be  careful  to  remove  anything  that 
causes  fear.  Animals  are  often  terrified  by  things 
that  men  hardly  observe.  If  they  are  punished, 
their  terror  is  only  increased.  Nothing  will  quiet 
them  so  soon  as  gentle  talk  and  caressing.  Kind 
ness  will  win  the  confidence  of  any  animal,  and  an 
animal  which  confides  in  his  keeper  is  easily  man 
aged.  If  you  want  your  horse  to  work  well,  take 
good  care  that  his  harness  does  not  chafe  him. 

Third.  —  All  animals  require  sunshine,  and  their 
dwellings  should  have  a  southerly  or  westerly  as- 


FOR  PITY'S  SAKE.  169 

pect  if  possible,  but  they  should  always  have  access 
to  shade  when  they  desire  it.  Stables,  sheds, 
coops,  and  cages  should  be  well  drained,  well 
lighted,  and  well  ventilated,  but  never  drafty.  A 
humane  owner  will  prevent  much  suffering  by 
learning  the  degree  of  heat  and  cold  which  the 
animal  is  enabled  by  nature  or  habit  to  endure. 
Every  stable  yard,  cage,  kennel  and  bed  should  be 
kept  thoroughly  clean. 

Fourth.  —  Every  animal '  should  have  as  much 
solid  food  daily  as  it  will  eat  up  clean,  but  no  more 
than  it  will  consume.  Stale  food  is  unwhole 
some.  It  should  be  removed  early  in  the  morning 
and  replaced  by  a  fresh  supply.  Nocturnal  animals 
should  be  fed  at  sunset.  Be  careful  to  give  animals 
as  much  variety  of  food  as  possible,  and  let  it  be  as 
nearly  as  possible  the  food  which  the  animal  would 
use  in  a  state  of  nature.  Animals  which  are  regu 
larly  fed  on  grain  ought  to  have  frequent  supplies 
of  green  food. 

Fifth.  —  Every  animal  should  have  an  abundant 
supply  of  pure  water  for  drinking.  Vessels  used 
for  food  or  water  should  be  washed  daily  and  should 
be  wiped  dry  before  refilling.  Iron  troughs  or 
plates  lined  with  porcelain  are  best,  being  clean, 
cheap,  and  durable. 

Sixth.  —  Bathing  is  necessary  to  the  health  and 
comfort  of  many  animals.  Cage  birds  ought  to  be 
allowed  to  bathe  daily,  and  a  separate  vessel 
adapted  to  their  size  should  be  supplied  for  that 
purpose.  Some  birds  delight  in  dust  baths.  A 


170  FOR  PITY'S  SAKE. 

working  horse  should  be  allowed  every  day  to  roll 
on  the  grass,  or  on  saw-dust. 

Seventh.  —  Animals  as  well  as  man  are  happier 
and  better  for  reasonable  recreation.  Whenever  it 
is  possible  they  should  have  it.  The  horse  should 
be  allowed  an  opportunity  to  run  at  large.  Dogs, 
especially  in  cities,  should  be  taken  out  to  run 
freely.  Even  cage  birds  are  immensely  pleased  if 
they  are  allowed  to  leave  the  cage  an  hour  or  so 
each  day. 

Eighth.  — •  When  an  animal  is  sick,  see  that  it  is 
kept  quiet  and  unmolested,  and  that  its  treatment 
is  unusually  gentle. 

Ninth.  —  When  it  is  certain  that  an  animal  will 
die,  always  secure  the  services  of  a  humane  and 
experienced  person  to  destroy  it  in  the  quickest 
and  least  painful  way,  and  when  it  dies  never  fail 
to  bury  it  at  once. 

Tenth.  —  Try  to  make  the  world  as  happy  as 
possible  for  any  creature  in  your  charge. 

A  wise  heathen  once  said,  "  We  hide  our  sins 
from  the  sight  of  men.  We  forget  that  the  horse 
we  ride  knows  our  temper  ;  that  our  dogs  and  cat 
tle  have  felt  our  cruelty ;  that  every  tree,  the  earth 
on  which  we  walk,  the  very  air  holds  myriads  of 
dumb  watchful  creatures. 

Who  knows  what  report  they  render  of  us  to  the 
Gods  ?  "  —  Youth's  Companion. 


FOR  PITY'S  SAKE.  171 

"These  selections,"  said  Mr.  Horton,  "are 
from  papers  which  are  read  by  hundreds  of 
thousands  of  people.  My  pocket  is  full  of 
more  of  the  same  stamp,  but  I  have  read 
enough  to  show  the  tone  of  the  press  on  this 
subject  of  the  abuse  of  dumb  creatures,  and  to 
give  an  idea  of  the  mighty  influence  it  exerts 
for  good.  We  may  sadly  deplore  the  fact,  that 
the  newspaper  is  a  most  powerful  agent  in 
carrying  on  the  devil's  business.  At  the  same 
time,  we  may  reverently  thank  God  that  it 
carries,  to  the  ends  of  the  earth,  the  knowledge 
of  '  Whatsoever  things  are  true,  whatsoever 
things  are  honest,  whatsoever  things  are  just, 
whatsoever  things  are  pure,  whatsoever  things 
are  lovely,  whatsoever  things  are  of  good  re 
port.' 

I  have  been  greatly  interested  in  what  has 
been  said  to-night  on  the  importance  of  keep 
ing  the  studies  of  the  young,  as  long  as  pos 
sible,  free  from  all  that  may  have  a  tendency  to 
dull  the  moral  sense.  It  might  have  a  good 
effect,  if  people  who  bequeath  their  money  to 
schools  and  colleges,  should  take  care  to  pre 
vent  its  ever  being  used  to  promote  cruel 
practices. 

I  knew  a  good  woman,  too  tender-hearted  to 
hurt  a  mouse,  who,  all  her  life  denied  herself 


172  FOR  PITY'S  SAKE. 

every  luxury  that  she  might  endow  a  school 
with  her  hoarded  savings.  She  wouldn't  rest 
in  her  grave  if  she  knew  what  is  going  on  in 
that  school  to-day.  I  believe  that  these  experi 
ments  in  physiology,  in  some  natures,  instigate 
crime.  I  knew  a  boy,  gentle  and  kind,  who 
developed  into  a  fiend.  His  friends  traced  the 
change  in  him,  directly,  to  his  studies  on  this 
line.  He  came  to  the  gallows,  when  still 
young,  and  the  wretch  deserved  the  fate  if 
any  one  ever  did.  The  tendency  to  begin  these 
studies  too  early,  should  be  checked. 

I  know  another  case,  where  a  science-crazy 
teacher  compelled  a  sensitive  girl,  twelve  years 
old,  to  stay  in  the  school-room  and  witness  a 
vivisection.  The  child  came  near  being  thrown 
into  convulsions  by  this  outrage  to  her  finer 
feelings.  When  the  parents  came  upon  the 
scene,  the  teacher  found  that  she  had  some 
thing  to  deal  with  besides  the  "  squeamishness  ' 
of  the  child.  The  hand  of  the  law  cannot  come 
down  too  heavy,  on  this  matter  of  experiments 
in  public  schools.  " 

A    WORD    FROM    DR.     SAMPSON. 

"  You  ask  me  for  one  word.  I  pught  not  to 
refuse  so  simple  a  request.  "The  word  I  have 
in  mind  —  is,  by  no  means,  simple  in  signifi- 


FOR  PITY'S  SAKE.  173 

cance.  It  suggests  heart-rending  horrors, — 
too  inhuman  to  detail.  It  stands  for  barbarous 
experiments,  —  atrocious  cruelties,  practiced  as 
a  means  of  illustration  or  for  the  purpose  of 
demonstrating  well  known  truths.  The  word 
might  be  defined  :  —  The  infliction  of  excruciat 
ing  torture  on  helpless,  innocent  creatures,  for 
the  sake  of  an  alleged  benefit  to  mankind  that 
is  questioned  by  many  of  the  wisest  and  best 
scientists  in  the  world.  It  Jias  been  defined : 
*  Hellish  crimes  committed  in  the  grand  name 
of  science.'  In  the  lexicons  of  the  future,  this 
word,  in  the  sense  we  are  now  considering  it, 
will  be  marked  —  obsolete.  Statistics  show 
that  crime  is  greatly  on  the  increase  in  this 
country.  It  will  continue  to  increase,  as  long 
as  such  a  crime  as  vivisection  is  upheld  by  law. 
It  is  a  blot  upon  our  nation's  honor  that  vivi 
section,  as  now  practiced,  is  not  made  a  crime. 
Let  this  practice  be  forbidden,  —  and  scientists, 
who  have  for  generations  kept  steadily  on  in 
this  old  demoralizing  track,  making  these  sick 
ening  experiments  over  and  over  again,  will 
search  out  new  lines  of  study,  will  devise 
higher  methods  of  demonstration.  There  are 
forces  in  this  world  waiting  for  discovery, 
which  will  open  new  channels  of  search  that 
will  lead  to  nobler  results,  —  without  involv- 


174 


"Cruelty  -would  need  no  hell 

Save  the  ghosts  of  the  sad  beasts    should 

come. 
And  standing,  silent,  crowd  their  centered 

heads, 
Stare  the  ill  man  to  madness." 


ft 

o  ." 


*  £  ^      &    ing    physical    agony    and    moral    degradation. 


£  I  o  £     ^         The  reports  that  come  from  the  laboratories 


§  « 


~  b  w  £      -     of    France    are    blood-curdling.       We   long    to 
*2  ^  3  ^     §,    think  they  are  exaggerated,  but  are  forced,  by 

c  ?  -^  te  the  testimony  of  authentic  witnesses,  to  believe 

«  Js    2   o 

JS  0  *>  .a  the  worst  that  has  been  told.     It  is  said  that 

*o  ,§  .2  §  r-  there  are  places    in   our   own   land    where   as 

|  <£  1  '"£  j£  horrible  scenes  are  daily  witnessed  by  young 

3  «  w  a  S  students  in  physiology,  who    become  so  hard- 

p  o  J  ened  that  they  are  pitiless  lookers-on,  regard- 

-Q  |  less  of  the  most  touching  appeals  of  the  suf- 

H  ^S  i  °  g  ferers.     Is  this  the  kind  of  instruction  to  create 

-       _«      R      f*2      S 

|  ^  |  £       the  highest  type  of  manhood  ?     Is  this  a  fit 
preparation  for  a  noble  life  ?     It  is  degrading 
to  the  proud  name  of  science  that  its  devotees 
must  resort  to  such  ignoble  means,  to  gain  a 
§?    —  "**§      minimum    of    knowledge,    that    could,    doubt- 
Jg'ft*     ^-2^      less,  be  acquired  by  methods  above  reproach. 
5 1     §  £  ^       It  is  declared,  by  reliable  scientific  authorities, 
•~  '?     ^^  ^       that  these  experiments  '  serve  no  purpose  that 
c  ^     "  =:  ^       cannot  be  better  served  by  other  methods  ; '  — 
that  '  they  are  not  justified    by  necessity  and 
no  harm  will  come  to  science  if  they  are  for 
bidden  ; '  -  —  that  '  these  brutal  methods  of  im- 
1  ^       parting  knowledge  (?)   do  far  more  harm  than 
they  can  do  good  ; '  that  '  vivisection  is  useless 
and  misleading  in  the  cause  of  true  science  and 
its    employment    should    be    stopped  ; '  —  that 


J= 


-s  s 
'^  p 


?  <-    9  g  « 


"Out  of  hell  a  word  comes  hissing,  dark  as 

doom, 
Fierce  as  fire  and  foul  as   plague-polluted 

gloom." VIVISECTION !  171;  -   £  P-  » 

I  I  &  1 

'this  practice,  for  the  purpose  of  instruction,  is  ab 
solutely  unnecessary  and  ought  to  be  put  an  end 
to  by  legislation,  without  any  reserve  whatever.'  |  £  T  ^ 

The  testimony  cf  hundreds  of  honest,  noble- 
hearted,  eminent  physicians  goes  to  prove  that  |*  \  Z 
'  It  is  unjustifiable,  cruel,  and    in   no  way  ad 
vances  medical  science  ; '  -  -  that  <  it  has  opened 
up  no  new  views  for  the  cure  of  diseases  ; '  -  s  5? 
that  '  it  blunts  the  moral  sense  to  such  a  degree                £  §*  J 
as  to  become  a  strong  force  in  the  production                i  'I  - 
of  criminals  ;  '  •  -  that  '  in  all  medical  schools  it 
should   be  abolished.'     Cardinal  Manning  saw 
this  tendency  to  dull  the  moral  nature,  when  he 
said  :  '  What  will  be  the  effect  on  the  nation,  if 
this  abominable  practice  continues  unchecked  ? 
If  we  allow  the  nation  to  become  brutalized  by 
what  is  called  science  ;  what  will  happen  to  our 
young  students  who  ought  to  be  sent  out  with 
tender  hearts,  and   souls  full  of  sympathy  for 
all  God's  creatures  ? ' 

Among  the  advocates  of  this  '  infernal  in 
humanity  '  on  the  scientific  side  of  the  question, 
there  are  some,  who  claim  that  '  moral  law  has 
no  place  in  the  laboratory,' — that  'animals 
have  no  rigJits  there,  that  man  is  called  upon  to 
respect.'  Others  say  that  'these  experiments 
are  cruel  in  the  eyes  of  super-sensitive,  hysteric 
people  ; '  —  that  '  accounts  are  grossly  exagger- 


"Now  that  Jews,  Heretics  and  Witches  can 
no  longer  be  tormented,  punched  with  red-hot 
irons  and  burnt,  the  human  race  satisfies  its 
thirst  for  cruelty  on  faithful,  sensitive  animals. 
So  long  as  there  is  something  to  be  burnt, 
jy5  flogged,  cut  in  pieces,  it  little  matters  what. 

(Jliicr  und  Menschcn  Freund,  Germany) 

ated.'  They  try  to  pacify  the  public  by  crying 
that  there  is  no  pain,  —  but  details,  taken 
from  laboratory  records,  tell  the  story.  Suc/i 
records  do  not  lie.  They  say,  too,  that  '  nature 
is  cruel  in  its  methods  ; '  that  the  history  of 
nature's  workings  is  one  long  tragedy. 

It  is  not  for  man  to  accuse  nature,  in  defence 
of  his  own  cruelty; — to  pass  judgment  on 
nature's  methods  of  keeping  its  true  balance, 
until  he  can  better  comprehend,  in  its  breadth, 
depth  and  height  the  great  plan  of  the  Creator. 
It  is  clearly  the  mission  of  man  to  add  to  the 
happiness  and  lessen  the  misery  in  the  world, 
as  far  as  it  lies  in  his  power.  Again,  they  say 
that  <  the  greatest  good  to  the  greatest  number 
is  the  measure  of  right  and  wrong.'  When 
doctors  disagree  so  widely,  as  to  what  is  the 
greatest  good  to  the  greatest  number,  who, 
but  the  people,  shall  decide  ?  Some  one  has 
.asked  why  an  angry  driver,  who  beats  his 
horses  on  the  street,  should  be  arrested,  fined, 
.and  dealt  with  as  he  deserves  —  when  a  profes 
sional  man  and  a  scholar  may  torture,  in  the 
most  brutal  manner,  without  fear  of  being 
molested  by  the  law  ?  One  wonders  why  the 
-driver  does  not  question  the  justice  of  a  decree 
that  punishes  him  for  the  lesser  crime. 

The  truth  is,  the   people,   as  yet,   know   but 


"He  shall  have  judgment  without  mercy, 
who  has  shown  no  mercy."     (Bible).  177 

little  of  this  atrocious  business,  which  is  carried 
on  behind  closed  doors  that  bar  aut  the  very 
elect.  But  there  is  a  growing  repugnance 
toward  it,  deep  and  strong.  The  world  is  wak 
ing  up  to  think  about  it  —  to  read  about  it  — 
to  talk  about  it.  A  spirit  of  sympathy  for 
these  innocent  sufferers  is  working  in  the  heart 
of  the  public.  The  question  of  justice  to  them, 
is  coming  more  and  more  to  the  front.  The 
people  will  not  much  longer  be  kept  in  igno 
rance.  The  literature  of  the  Humane  Societies, 
so  widely  circulated,  tells  the  plain,  unvarnished 
truth  ;  —  and  all  may  read.  I  have  faith  in  the 
humanity  in  mankind  when  once  it  is  aroused. 
Let  there  be  a  wide-spread  knowledge  of  the 
extent  and  enormity  of  this  practice,  and  the 
world  will  not  sit  with  folded  hands  and  allow 
it  to  continue.  The  time  will  come,  in  fact,  I 
think  it  is  at  hand,  when  a  mighty  sound  like 
the  roar  of  many  waters  will  go  up  from  the 
heart  of  'the  people/  demanding  in  the  name 
of  justice,  of  mercy,  of  humanity,  of  honor,  that 
this  evil  shall  cease.  There  will  be  a  hard 
fight  for  its  continuance.  There  are  many  who 
command  salaries  for  conducting  these  cruel 
ties,  and  many  more,  who  gain  a  livelihood  by 
supplying  the  subjects.  They  will  make  the 
weight  of  their  numbers  felt  in  the  contest,  but 


1 78  FOR  PITY'S  SAKE. 

I  have  no  fear  for  the  ultimate  result.  Nothing 
can  withstand  the  march  of  true  progress. 
This  is  a  mighty  question.  It  implores  the 
whole  civilized  world  to  search  into  it.  When 
a  knowledge  of  this  inhuman  practice  and  its 
depraving  influence  becomes  universal  ;  —  the 
end  is  assured  :  But  one  is  forced  to  cry,  '  How 
long,  O  Lord  ? ' 

"  I  am  glad  if  there  is  a  hopeful  side  to  this 
question,"  said  one,  "  f  or  my  part,  I  am  kept 
awake  nights,  thinking  that  these  infernal  pro 
ceedings  are  going  on  somewhere,  and,  as  yet, 

|  there  is  no  power  to  stop  it.      We  need  another 

Harriet    Beecher   Stowe,   to   handle    man's  in- 

£  humanity  to  animals,  as  that  noble  woman  dealt 

with  his  inhumanity    to    man.     But    we    must 

^  wait  for  this  uprising  of  public  sentiment,  that 

£  Dr.  Sampson  has  such  faith  in." 

"  No  !  "  interrupted  Dr.  Sampson,  "  we  must 
not  wait  for  it.  We  musk  fight  for  it  ! 

•§  |  But  you  all  have  lost  sight  of  the  fact  that 

L  s  it  is  getting  late  ;    or   shall  we   call   it    early  ? 

°  §  The  next  stroke  of  the  clock  will  begin  on  the 

wee  sma  hours.  The  moon  has  gone  behind 
the  hills.  Our  lights  are  growing  dim.  The 
morning  light  and  the  cock-crowing  are  not 
far  away.  The  clerk  is  nodding  in  his  chair. 
.He  will  wake  and  accuse  us  of  cruelty  to 


FOR  PITY'S  SAKE.  179 

animals    if    we    keep    him    up    much    longer." 
"Then  all  arose  and  said  'Good  Night." 

"While  from  the  windows,  here  and  there, 
The  scattered  lamps  a  moment  gleamed, 
And  the  illumined  hostel   seemed 
The  constellation  of  the  Bear, 
Downward,  athwart  the  misty  air, 
Sinking  and  setting  toward  the  sun, 
Far  off  the  village  clock  struck  one." 

Vivisection 


i  R.  ~  L  ~  T         A  Science  without  God!     A.  lustful  greed 

:  ' '_  ^   ~  Z  Of  sovereign  Knowledge,  arming  hands  of  power 

.?"          To  search  out  Nature's  secret,  plenteous  dower 

•8  ft?  *"  ^  <)f  (leel>'  indwelling  Life  !     Dumb  victims  bleed 

3   t>  ^  *o  ^  And  siitler  Torture  ;  and  their  strained  eyes  plead 

>!>  w  j  A  helpless  misery  as  they  shrink  and  co\\  <T 

*j  3  p  e*  o  ".  J          WTiile  crnel  flngers  wantonly  deflower 

5  ^   *   *   s  ?  v             Some  part  of  wonted  use. 

•o  ««  ^   o    "   fl  yo  hit  man  need  is  aided ;  but.  divinest  iisc  denied, 

c   c  »    ^    >   «j  The  low  beast's  maiming  will  invite  the  hiirli 

*g  ~*  ••  ^  ^  5  Immortal  man's ;  till  horrors  multiplied 

~  Destroy  all  thought  of  healing;  and  the  cry 

^  Of  sick  humanity  be  answered  by 

^  An  outraged  Nature  and  a  God  defied. 


The  Crime  of  the  World, 
Vivisection 


>  C  ^"  C    =  Alul  l)e>r°n(l  a11  tn!s»  in  abyssinal  deeps 

The  Spirit  of  Cruelty  sows  and  reaps, 
In  the  chambers  of  Torture  that  wear  to  day 
The  .ijlow  of  the  cruel  incaiisitor's  sway  ; 
'Tis  impious  zeal  that  in  Murder  deals, 
Xot  Ilunianity's  heart-throb  that  grandly  feel:- 
(),  shrink  from  the  terrible  hand,  blood-dyed. 
That  all  claim  of  the  merciful  soul  denied'; 
The  foulest  and  blackest,  most  fearful  crime, 
Injustice  the  rankest!  most  barbarous  siirhl  ! 
Pretense  of  Knowledge  assailing  the  Right! 
Vivisection,  the  depths  of  all  cruelty  thine, 
Tlnj  crimes  arc  the  false  lights  that  luridly  shine. 


i8o  FOR  PITY'S  SAKE. 

VI. 

FINALE. 

"  So  many  gods,  so  many  creeds  — 
So  many  paths  that  wind  and  wind, 
While  just  the  art  of  being  kind 
Is  all  the  sad  world  needs." 

A  few  short  years  have  passed  since  I  lis 
tened  to  the  talks  on  the  veranda  of  the  Coun 
try  Inn,  which  I  have  related  in  the  foregoing 
chapters.  I  have  not  had  the  good  fortune  to 
meet  any  of  that  little  company  again.  I  think 
of  them  as  "  Ships  that  pass  in  the  night." 
But  the  ringing  words  that  were  spoken  in 
passing,  changed  the  course  of  a  life. 

I  thought  of  Mr.  Gates  and  his  avowed  af 
fection  for  the  religions  of  the  Orient,  when 
reading,  not  long  ago,  a  report  of  a  notable  ad 
dress  by  a  Buddhist  Monk  from  Ceylon. 
"  Dharmapala,  with  a  beautiful  spirit  and  rev 
erent  earnestness,"  says  "The  Outlook,"  "ex 
pounded  the  teachings  of  Buddha.  His  man 
ner  was  so^courteous  and  his  spirit  so  fine  that 
no  one  could  doubt  the  spiritual  power  and 
earnestness  of  the  man.  When  at  last  he  said 
that  he  did  not  come  to  attack  our  religion, 
but  could  not  help  expressing  his  mind  con- 


FOR  PITY'S  SAKE.  181 

earning  the  terrible  sufferings  of  the  animal 
world,  and  declared  that  such  sights  as  are  wit 
nessed  at  the  stock  yards  in  Chicago  are  a  dis 
grace  to  civilization  and  would  not  be  tolerated 
in  a  Buddhist  country,  the  audience  manifested 
its  approval  by  a  round  of  the  heartiest  ap 
plause." 

Mr.  Leigh,  and  his  eager  search  for  light  on 
the  question  of  endless  life  for  the  lower  ani 
mals,  came  to  my  mind,  as  in  looking  over 
recent  book  notices,  I  saw  the  somewhat  sur 
prising  title,  —  "  Life  and  Immortality,  or 
Souls  in  Plants  and  Animals."  The  writer  of 
this  book  claims  that  the  same  breath  of  life, 
which,  we  read,  was  breathed  into  the  nostrils 
of  man  by  the  Creator,  was  also  breathed  into 
every  created  thing  which  has  life.  "  If,  there 
fore,  this  was  a  particle  of  the  divine  essence 
which  became  the  immortal  soul  in  man,  then 
all  other  animals  have  immortal  souls,  for  they 
all  received  the  spirit  of  lives  in  common  with 
him.  "  The  theories  of  this  book  are  not  of 
such  stuff  as  dreams  are  made  of.  They  are 
the  outcome  of  a  scientific  study  of  the  great 
lessons  taught  by  nature  and  Revelation  to  one 
who  has  eyes  to  see,  ears  to  hear,  and  a  heart 
to  feel.  No  one  can  read  it  without  feeling  a 
deep  sense  of  the  sacredness  of  life,  however 


i82  FOR  PITY'S  SAKE. 

widely  he  may  differ  from  the   author  in  belief. 

Again  :  Another  member  of  that  little  com 
pany  was  brought  before  me,  when  the  X-Ray 
ca*me  —  to  startle  the  world  with  its  weird 
power  to  illumine  its  darkest  places.  Is  not 
this,  one  of  the  forces  waiting  for  discovery, 
that  proves  the  truth  of  Dr.  Sampson's  hopeful, 
prophetic  words  ?  In  time,  — may  not  the  lens 
supercede  the  scalpel,  as  a  holier  and  cleaner 
means  of  search  into  the  secrets  of  life  ? 

A  vision  of  a  pretty  lady  dressed  in  blue  — 
talking  earnestly  about  birds,  rises  from  my 
memory,  as  I  read,  to-day,  of  the  great  move 
ments  on  foot  to  prevent  our  wild  birds  from 
being  swept  off  the  face  of  the  earth.  The 
"  note  of  alarm  "  has,  at  last,  been  heard.  The 
conscience  of  the  public  is  aroused.  The  ap 
peals  to  humanity  have  not  been  in  vain. 

The  "  Song-birds  of  Massachusetts  and  their 
Play-fellows  "  have  led  the  world,  in  presenting 
to  the  General  Court  of  their  State  a  plea  for 
protection,  signed  with  their  own  names.  It  was 
a  wise  little  bird  that  whispered  into  the  ear  of 
the  kind-hearted  Senator,  who  framed  for  them 
their  unique  and  graceful  petition.  Happy 
Massachusetts  birds !  Their  protection  is 
henceforth  assured.  We  listen  for  a  new  note 
in  their  joyful  song. 


FOR  PITY'S  SAKE.  183 

I  hear,  too,  from  the  East,  that  an  energetic 
women's  club  has  started  a  crusade  for  saving 
the  birds  that  bids  fair  to  march  around  the 
world.  It  is,  indeed,  hopeful  when  women 
join  their  forces  to  protect  the  feathered  tribes. 
"  It  is  a  melancholy  fact,"  writes  a  Secretary 
of  the  Department  of  Agriculture,  "that  among 
the  enemies  of  our  birds,  two  of  the  most  des 
tructive  and  relentless  are  our  women  and  our 
boys."  Woman  may,  as  a  noble  woman  has 
suggested,  "  so  create  fashion  that  it  will  be 
vulgar  for  a  woman  to  wear  any  part  of  a  bird 
in  her  hat."  Woman,  too,  can  stop  the  mania 
for  collecting  eggs  that  is  too  often  encouraged 
by  the  thoughtless.  She  can  educate  the  small 
boy  to  use  the  camera  and  the  spy-glass  in  the 
woods  and  fields,  instead  of  the  gun.  "The  gun 
gives  the  body,"  said  Thoreau,  -  -  "  not  the 
bird." 

Women  were  never  so  united  in  organ 
ized  forces  as  they  are  to-day.  There  is 
strength,  in  this  union,  for  the  accomplish 
ment  of  every  good  work  which  gains  their 
notice.  It  is  interesting  to  trace,  in  the  evo 
lution  of  women's  clubs,  the  growth  of  the 
helpful  element  in  the  subjects  to  which  they 
give  their  attention.  The  primary  idea  of  the 
club,  everywhere,  was  individual  culture  and 


184  FOR  PITY'S  SAKE. 

the  development  of  a  finer  home  life.  What  is 
individual  culture,  but  the  starting  point,  the 
stepping  stone  to  that  universal  culture  which 
broadens,  deepens  and  uplifts  the  life  of  a 
nation  ?  The  practical  and  the  helpful  questions 
are  now  pressing  to  the  front,  demanding  and 
receiving  intelligent  attention.  What  can  we 
do  to  develop  a  finer  public  spirit  in  our  com 
munity  ?  What  can  we  do  to  improve  and 
make  more  attractive  our  towns  and  villages? 
How  can  we  help  to  protect  our  shade  trees, 
and  preserve  our  forests  ?  How  can  we  show 
our  interest  in  education  ?  Are  we  doing  all 
we  can,  to  aid  and  encourage  our  public  school 
teachers  in  the  noble  work  to  which  they  are 
devoting  their  lives  ?  Can  we  not  use  our  in 
fluence,  and  add  our  mite,  towards  making  our 
school-houses  beautiful,  healthful  and  home 
like  ?  What  shall  we  do  to  create  and  foster, 
in  the  rising  generation,  a  taste  for  the  best  in 
literature,  music  and  art  ?  Is  it  not  our  mission 
to  do  what  we  can  to  stop  the  wanton  des 
truction  of  our  song-birds  ? 

The  interests  that  appeal  strongly  to  women's 
clubs  for  a  share  in  their  thought  and  work, 
are  many ;  and  many  are  the  calls  to  which 
they  nobly  respond.  But  there  is  one  cause, 
that,  with  its  mute  appeal  to  their  sympathy, 


FOR  PITY'S  SAKE.  185 

has,  thus  far,  been  strangely  overlooked,  or 
thoughtlessly  disregarded.  Can  we  not  make 
a  special  effort  to  show  our  interest  in  the 
movements  for  the  prevention  of  cruelty  to  our 
dumb  animals  ?  Can  we  not  use  our  influence 
to  prevent  the  mutilation  of  horses, — to  abolish 
the  use  of  savage  bits  and  barbarous  check- 
reins  ?  Can  we  not  help  to  create  a  public 
sentiment  against  the  practice  of  vivisection, 
that  shall  have  weight,  in  putting  a  stop  to  this 
infamous  cruelty  ?  Can  not  we  become  such  a 
power  in  the  cause  of  humanity  to  all  helpless 
dumb  creatures,  that  it  will  yet  be  said,  that  the 
societies  for  prevention  of  cruelty  to  animals 
have  no  stronger  allies  than  women's  clubs  ? 

Is  the  work  that  stands  waiting  to  be  done 
by  the  "  white  hands,  warm  hearts,  and  subtle 
brains  of  those  who  serve  "  in  women's  clubs, 
almost  appalling  to  the  faint-hearted  ?  I  heard, 
not  long  ago,  the  address  of  a  college  Presi 
dent  to  a  class  of  young  women  about  to  leave 
the  college  home  for  their  work  in  life.  I  had 
no  pencil  and  paper  for  tangible  notes.  I  cannot 
give  the  speaker's  helpful  words,  but  the  spirit 
of  them  says  :  If  there  is  more  work  than  we 
can  do,  —  more  wrong  than  we  can  right,  — 
more  mystery  than  we  can  solve,  —  more  suf 
fering  than  we  can  relieve,  —  more  sorrow  than 


186  FOR  PITY'S  SAKE. 

we  can  assuage ;  let  us  not  for  a  moment  for 
get  that  there  is  more  help,  —  more  courage, 
—  more  strength  than  we  can  use,  —  more  love 
than  we  can  comprehend.  What  we  need,  is 
more  trust  in  the  great  Designer  of  all  things, 
who  sees  the  end  from  the  beginning,  and  knows 
the  ultimate  good  that  will  come  from  what 
may  seem  to  our  finite  vision,  a  chaos  of  evil. 

The  signs  of  the  times  are  hopeful  in  the 
promise  of  a  better  recognition  of  the  rights  of 
the  lower  animals.  Humane  Societies  are 
doing  a  good  work  in  their  behalf  that  can 
hardly  be  over-estimated.  It  is  doubtless  a 
result  of  their  vigorous  efforts,  that  dissection 
and  vivisection  have  been  prohibited  in  our 
public  schools.  Other  humane  movements 
have,  within  the  last  few  years,  been  "crys- 
talized  by  legislation  ; "  a  matter  of  great  re 
joicing  to  those  who  have  worked  unceasingly 
to  bring  about  such  desirable  results.  Yet  the 
world  is  still  waiting  for  the  zenith  of  that  civ 
ilization,  which  recognizes  the  fact  that  "  all 
life  is  worthy  of  interest,  sympathy,  love  and 
reverence,  "  and  demands  a  love  so  great  as 
to  include  a  helpful,  tender  regard  for  the 
happiness  and  well  being  of  the  dumb  animals 
that  inherit,  with  mankind,  a  dwelling  place  on 
this  old  earth. 


FOR  PITY'S  SAKE.  187 

Once  more,  I  have  made  a  pilgrimage  to  the 
mountains  and  the  sea.  When  in  the  vicinity 
of  that  restful  place,  which  so  charmed  me  on 
my  former  journey,  I  could  not  resist  the 
temptation  to  revisit  the  scene  of  my  strange 
dream,  —  and  awakening  to  new  views  of  life's 
duties  and  responsibilities.  Arriving  at  the 
railway  station  at  the  foot  of  the  hill,  I  looked 
in  vain  for  the  picturesque,  clumsy,  old  yellow 
stage-coach.  A  little  disappointed,  I  called  a 
carriage,  saying  to  the  driver,  "  Take  me  to  the 
old  Inn  on  the  Hill." 

In  surprise  he  exclaimed,  "  Why,  Madam  ! 
Haven't  you  heard  ?  That  house  has  been 
burned  to  the  ground  !  " 

"  Then  take  me  to  the  place  where  it  stood," 
I  said. 

As  we  slowly  drove  up  the  long  hill  I  plied 
the  driver  with  questions.  I  learned  that  this 
fine  old  mansion,  after  its  life  of  more  than  a 
hundred  years  of  usefulness  and  honor,  had 
been  cruelly  swept  away  by  the  torch  of  a 
midnight  incendiary;  that  the  whole  town 
mourned  the  loss  of  this  priceless  historic  land 
mark.  And  well  it  might.  Too  few  of  these 
choice  relics  of  Colonial  days  are  left  to  us 
now,  and  they  cannot  be  prized  too  highly,  or 
guarded  too  well.  I  learned,  also,  from  the 


i88  FOR  PITY'S  SAKE. 

driver,  who  looked  wonderingly  at  me  when  I 
inquired  for  the  horses  in  the  stable,  by  name, 
that  Madame,  the  aristocratic  old  white  beauty, 
was  found  dead  in  her  stall,  one  morning,  a 
short  time  before  the  fire  ;  her  appearance  in 
dicating  that  she  had  dropped  suddenly  from 
heart  disease.  Frazzle,  too,  had  passed  away  ; 
and  was  buried  in  the  shade  of  a  maple  in  the 
field  that  he  loved  so  well.  Poor  Ned,  so 
cruelly  wronged,  became  nervous  and  intract 
able,  and  was  taken  with  a  car-load  of  horses  to 
be  sold  at  auction  in  the  South.  He  had  been 
sent,  as  was  prophesied,  where  flies  would 
worry  him  the  year  round,  and  with  no  tail  to 
protect  himself  from  their  torments. 

As  we  drew  near  the  desolate  site,  I  began 
instinctively  to  repeat,  — 

"  For  the  blackness  of  ashes  shall  mark  where  it  stood, 
And  the  wild  mother  scream  — " 

I  could  not  finish  the  couplet,  for  a  comfor 
table,  motherly  old  hen  was  scratching  and 
clucking  fondly  to  her  brood  of  well-fed 
chicks,  in  the  tall  grasses  and  weeds  that 
already  grew  on  the  spot.  The  grand  old  elms 
stood  on  guard  about  the  place,  as  they  did 
when  I  first  saw  it.  The  same  peaceful  coun 
try  stretched  far  away  towards  the  mountains 
and  the  sunset.  But  with  the  old  house,  the 


FOR  PITY'S  SAKE.  189 

delightful  atmosphere  of  mellow  repose,  the 
quaint  charm  that  cast  its  spell  over  the  quiet 
neighborhood,  had  departed.  It  was  as  if  the 
spirit  of  a  living  thing  had  gone  out  in  that 
blaze  and  smoke.  Not  a  trace  of  the  time- 
honored  land-mark  was  left  standing.  Only 
the  door-stones  remained.  What  fancies 
they  suggested  of  the  myriads  of  fair  women, 
brave  men,  and  dear  little  children,  who  had 
passed  in  and  out,  in  all  the  years  from  the  day 
they  were  placed  there,  to  the  black  night 
when  the  fire-fiend  bounded  over  them  in  haste 
to  leave  the  scene  of  his  crime. 

I  was  hurried  away  from  this  tragic  spot  in 
an  electric  car,  that  went  tearing  down  the 
Street  Beautiful,  where  before,  the  drowsy 
old  stage-coach  had  so  lazily  rumbled.  Closing 
my  eyes  to  the  gaunt  poles  that  towered  up 
among  the  fine  trees  that  shaded  it,  I  recalled 
my  first  impression  of  this  fair  street,  on  the 
day  that  we  drove  in  its  grateful  shade  to  the 
restful  Inn  beyond. 

Glancing  over  the  columns  of  a  daily  journal 
as  the  train  bore  me  away,  my  attention  was 
arrested  by  the  words,  "  Are  Animals  Immor 
tal  ?  "  In  a  paragraph  under  this  head,  I  read 
that  a  "  Bureau  of  Animal  Psychology  "  has 
been  recently  formed  in  this  country  ;  the  ob- 


190  FOR  PITY'S  SAKE. 

ject  of  which  "  is  to  collect  evidence  by  corres 
pondence  and  observation,  to  show  that  the 
lower  animals  may  be  immortal."  The  names 
of  many  who  are  interested  in  this  movement 
are  well  and  widely  known.  So  the  question 
with  which  my  story  opens,  commands,  to-day, 
the  attention  of  wise  heads  in  science  and 
theology. 

On  one  of  my  journeys  across  the  country, 
it  was  my  good  fortune  to  make  the  acquain 
tance  of  a  venerable  Bishop,  whose  life  was, 
long  ago,  consecrated  to  a  labor  of  love 
amons:  the  Indians  of  the  West.  The  dear  old 
man  is  already  canonized  in  the  hearts  of  his 
friends.  His  face,  even  now,  shines  as  with  a 
light  from  the  heavenly  city.  I  listened,  spell 
bound,  as  he  told  the  story  of  his  adventures, 
hardships,  discouragements  and  successes- 
among  the  tribes  of  the  wilderness.  Truly, 
this  humble  disciple,  in  ministering  to  the 
temporal  and  spiritual  needs  of  these  rude 
children  of  the  forest,  has  followed,  as  closely 
as  human  may,  the  precepts  and  example  of 
our  Divine  Master.  The  good  Bishop  told  me 
that  it  had  been  his  custom,  day  after  day,  and 
year  after  year,  to  ride,  alone,  through  the 
wilderness  ;  where  it  would  seem  that  he  bore 
a  charmed  life. 


FOR  PITY'S  SAKE.  191 

"  My  only  travelling  companion  for  many 
years,"  said  he  "was  my  good  horse,  Rainier. 
We  journeyed  together  more  than  thirty 
thousand  miles.  I  looked  upon  him  as  a  friend, 
faithful  and  true." 

With  a  tear  glistening  in  his  eye,  he  con 
tinued,  "  I  cried  bitterly  when  my  dear  old 
Rainier  died.  I  loved  him,  —  and,  even  now, 
tears  come  to  my  eyes  when  I  speak  of  him." 

After  a  moment's  pause  he  added,  "  But  I 
may  see  him  again.  Is  not  our  Father's  love 
large  enough  to  hold  all  his  creatures  ?  And 
is  not  his  universe  broad  enough  to  give  them 

all  a  home  ?  "  We  can  easily  run  from  these  few  premises  to 

the  full  realization  that  there  is  a  passion  of 
cruelty  still  sweeping  along  in  our  world  and  our 
country — a  passion  which  should  be  met  and  be 
eliminated  more  perfectly  from  the  human 

J>  c  heart.     It  was  the  disgrace  of  the  past ;  it  is 

**  f  the  DEEPER  INFAMY  of  the  present  because  the 

:    "  culture  of  the  race  has  moved  forward  since 


>>  "g  the  times  of  Nero  and  Catharine  de  Medici. 

j-      Cfl 

is 


I 


The  Moral  Warfare 

"The   author   of  a    great    reformation    i> 
always  unpopular  in  his  own  age.     He  generally 
passes   his   life      in   disquiet   and    danger.       It 
«)  is     therefore     for  the  interest  of   the   human 

.-  race  that  the  memory  of   such   men  should   be 

B  had  in  reverence,  and  that  they  should    he  sup- 

cj  ported  against  t  lie  scorn  and  hatred  of  their con- 

E  temporaries.    To  go  on  the  forlorn  hope  of  trut  h 

•5;  is  a  service  of  peril— who  will  undertake    it.    it 

3  it  be  not  aUo  a  service    of    honor?     It    is    eas\ 

w  enough  aft-r  the  ramparts  are  carried,    to    find 

^  «  nwn   to  plant   the   tlag  on  the  topmost  tow«-r. 

O  *  The  difficulty  is  to  find  men  uhoare  ready  to  go 

first  in  the  breach.  (L»r 


A  Problem 


Impromptu  lines  upon  a  rema  k  with  refer 
ence  to  vivisection,  "but  they  have  no  souls, 

Come  Carlo,  dear  four-footed  friend, 

And  look  at  me  that  I  may  trace 
Once  more  that  glance  of  loving  light, 

Which  lends  such  beauty  to  thy  face. 
But  whence  it  comes  and  what  it  means, 

Can  take  small  place  in  Nature's  roll; 
Thy  gaze  is  but  atonic  play, 

For  Carlo,  dear,  thou  hast  no  soul(?) 

Give  me  thy  paw  ;  'tis  trustier  far 

Than  many  a  hand  of  human  mould; 
And  greet  me  with  thy  honest  tongue 

Which  never  a  human  lie  has  told. 
And  yet  thy  steadfastness  and  truth 

Twere  idle  folly  to  extol ; 
They're  only  matter's  fleeting  form  -o 

For  Carlo,  dear,  thou  hast  no  soul(?)  5 

There  let  my  vivisecting  knife  "^  £ 

Slow  make  thee,  dumb,  and  maimed,  and  blind ;  "§    <5 

Thy  torture  weighs  not  in  the  scale,  "  '% 

Matter  must  be  the  store  of  mind.  ^   g 

Ah !  God,  that  look ;  that  piteous  cry,  ^   g 

What  is  this  thought  beyond  control?  £ 
Can  science  be  a  cruel  lie, 

And  faithful  Carlo  have  a  soul? 

(L.  H.  E.  in  London  Zoophilisf) 


a,  > 

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1: 

CJ1    rd 
4)      -^ 


"Afl  nothing  N  t<>«>  cruel,  so  nothing  is  1<»<> 
loathsome  for  the  viviseetors.  \\' .  (Janeher 
revels  in  a  new  way  of  giving  aniin:ils  Hright's 
Disease.  It  consists  in  injecting  into  guinea-  ' 
pigs  certain  products  of  animal  organs,  so  that 
the  poor  creatures  die  of  diseased  kidneys. 
Dr.  Klein,  Mr.  Linuard  and  ot  hers  arc  amu>ing 
themselves  Ity  feeding  fowls  upon  the  putrid 
lungs  of  men  and  animals  to  induce  tuberculosis 
and  inoculating  guinea-pigs,  which  persist  in  dis- 
apointing  these  fragrant  persons  by  premature 
death  from  blood  poisoning.  And  the  result 
of  all  the  diabolical  cruelties  practised  is  the 
power  of  PKOIMVIM;  diseases  but  not  a  step 
towards  their  CUKK.  The  effect  of  their  grue 
some  processes  are  found  to  be  quite  dillerent 
on  different  animals,  and  are,  therefore,  scarce- 
v  ever  a  guide  to  their  effects  on  human  beings, 
i  Let  no  one,  however,  be  discouraged  ;  they  will 
presently  want  human  beings  to  practice  on." 


Letter  from    Mr.    Downes    to 
Miss  Francis  Power  Cobbe 

"DEAR  MADAM  —  I  have  much  pleasure  in 
assenting  to  your  proposal  to  add  my  name  to 
the  free  list  of  Honorary  Members  of  the  Society 
for  the  Protection  of  Animals  from  Vivisection. 
I  had  no  hesitation  in  signing  the  petition  against 
vivisection  at  Taunton,  because  I  consider  that 
in  the  dark  ages  of  ignorance  and  superstition 
the  practice  may  possibly  have  been  excusable. 
but  that  with  the  increased  knowledge  of  the 
causes  of  disease  which  we  no-y  possess,  it  is 
not  only  cruel,  but  totally  unnecessary. 
I  remain,  dear  Madam,  yours  very  truly, 


Deputy  Inspector-General  of  Hospitals,  II.    P.' 
Tiverton,  Devon,  Enir..  May  :',.!.  1884. 


Christmas  in  Sweden. 

They  tell  a  lovely  story  in  lands  beyond  the  sea, 
How,  when  the  King  of  Glory  lay  on  his  mother's 

knee, 
Before  the  prophet-princes  came,  bringing  gifts 

iii  hand, 
The  dumb  beasts  felt  the  miracle  men  could  not 

understand ! 
The  gentle,  patient  donkey  and  the  ox  that  trod 

the  corn 
Knelt  down  beside  the  manger   and  knew  that 

Christ  was  born. 
And  so  they   say    in   Sweden,    at  twelve   each    i 

Christmas  night, 
The  chimb  beasts  kneel  to  worship  and    see  the 

Christmas  light ! 

This  fancy  makes  men  kinder  to  creatures  need 
ing  care; 
They  give  them  Christmas  greeting  and  dainty 

Christmas  fare ; 

The  cat  and  dog  sup  gaily,  and  a  sheaf  of  gold 
en  corn 
Is  raised  above  the  roof -tree  for  the  birds   on 

Christmas  morn  I 
We  do  not  live  in  Sweden,  but  we  can  feed  the 

birds, 
And   make   dumb   creatures   happy  by    kindly 

deeds  and  words. 

No  animal  so  humble,  no  creeping  worm  so  small, 
But  that  the  God  who  made  us  has  made  and 

loves  them  all ! 

If  we  to  them  are  cruel,  like  Christ  we  cannot  be  1 
And  this  shall  be   our  lesson  from  our  dear  "-• 

Christmas  tree ! 


ur   postscript. 

(For  enclosure  in  If  tiers.) 


Published  Quarterly. 


-\ 


No.  I.  PHILADELPHIA,   July,  1898.  Vol.   I. 


VEGETARIAN    SYNOPSIS. 

By  REV.    HENRY    S.    CLUBB. 


The  Principle. — That  man,  as  a  physical  intel 
lectual,  and  moral  being,  becomes  best  devel 
oped  in  all  his  faculties  when  subsisting  upon 
the  direct  productions  of  the  Vegetable  King 
dom. 

The  Reasons  for  entertaining  that  principle 
vary  with  different  persons.  They  are  chiefly 
based  : 

i. — On  the  ANATOMY  OF  MAN,  as  described 
by  LINNJSUS,  CUVIER,  OWEN,  and  other  emi 
nent  scientists,  who  express  their  conviction 
that  man  was  designed  to  live  on  the  fruits  of 
the  earth. 

ii. — On  PHYSIOLOGY,  which  shows  that  the 
healthiest  and  least  laborious  action  of  the  di 
gestive  organs,  the  purest  blood,  and  the  most 
substantial  muscle  and  bone,  are  produced 
upon  this  diet,  if  well  masticated. 

in. — On  CHEMISTRY,  it  being  an  undisputed 
.  fact  that  flesh  food  contains  no  nutriment 


which  cannot  be  obtained  in  its  purest  form 
from  grains,  pulse,  fruits,  and  vegetables. 

iv. — On  ECONOMY,  which  is  every  way  pro 
moted  by  a  system  providing  more  sustenance 
for  a  cent  from  farinaceous  food  than  for  a 
dime  from  the  flesh  of  animals. 

v. — On  AGRICULTURE,  which  shows  that  the 
cultivation  of  land  provides  healthful  employ 
ment  for  a  much  greater  number  of  persons 
than  land  devoted  to  pasture,  and  that  a  culti 
vated  acre  will  yield  from  three  to  four  times 
as  much  food  as  an  acre  used  for  grazing  pur 
poses. 

vi. — On  PSYCHOLOGY,  which  shows  that 
this  system  is  favorable  to  the  subjection  of 
the  passions  to  the  higher  moral  and  intellec 
tual  faculties. 

vn. — On  ESTHETICS,  which  seek  to  cherish 
and  promote  all  that  is  sublime  and  beautiful 
on  the  earth,  to  dispense  with  the  slaughter 
house,  and  to  liberate  from  degrading  occupa 
tion  the  butcher,  the  drover,  and  the  cook. 

viii  — On  HUMANENESS,  which  is  founded 
upon  the  irrefragable  principles  of  justice  and 
compassion — universal  justice  and  universal 
compassion — the  two  principles  most  essential 
in  any  system  of  ethics  worthy  of  the  name. 

ix. — On  APPOINTMENT  of  man's  food  at  the 
Creation  :  "And  God  said,  Behold,  I  have  given 
you  every  herb  bearing  seed,  which  is  upon 


the  face  of  all  the  earth,  and  every  tree,  in  the 
which  is  the  fruit  of  a  tree  yielding  seed;  to 
you  it  shall  be  for  meat." — Genesis  i.  29. 

x. — On  HISTORY,  which  shows  that  wher 
ever  it  has  been  adopted  it  has  proved  benefi 
cial  to  the  human  race. 

xi. — On  the  EXPERIENCE  and  TESTIMONY 
of  great  and  good  men,  in  ancient,  modern, 
and  present  times. 

xn. — On  the x  INDIVIDUAL  CONVICTION  of 
its  truth,  which  becomes  more  powerful  in 
proportion  as  it  is  adhered  to  in  practice. 

xiu. — ON  BIOLOGY,  as  the  most  practical 
and  successful  teachers  of  this  science  insist 
on  abstinence  from  flesh  and  subsistance  on 
fruits  as  promotive  of  clearness  of  perception 
and  that  development  of  the  mental  faculties 
which  increases  the  power  of  one  mind  to 
direct  and  control  the  will  of  another. 

xiv. — ON  MORAL  PURITY  as  flesheating 
tends  to  stimulate  human  passion  and  dimin 
ishes  the  power  of  the  highest  faculties  to 
control  the  current  of  thought. 

xv. — ON  THE  SENSES  of  taste,  smell,  touch 
ing,  seeing  and  hearing  as  all  these  are 
offended  by  the  flavor,  odor,  touch  and  sight  of 
a  dead  body  and  the  piteous  cries  of  creatures 
before  and  during  the  process  of  slaughter. 

xvi — ON  COMMON  SENSE  as  it  is  well  known 
that  nearly  all  animals  are  in  a  state  of 


Chris1 


They  tell  a  lovt 
How,  when  the 

knee, 
Before  the  pro 

in  hand, 
The  dumb  ~beas\ 

understand 
The  gentle,  pat 

the  corn 
Knelt  down  bes 

Christ  was 
And  so  they  si 

Christmas 
The  dumb  beas, 

Christmas 
This  fancy  mak 

ing  care ; 
They  give  then: 

Christmas  : 
The  cat  and  doi 

en  corn 
Is  raised  above 

Christmas  i 
We  do  not  live 

birds, 
And   make   dor 

deeds  and  i 
No  animal  so  hu 
But  that  the  Go 

loves  them 
If  we  to  them  ar- 
And  this   shall 

Christmas  t 


disease  when  slaughtered,  in  consequence 
of  the  cruel  and  unnatural  conditions  in 
which  they  are  placed  previous  to  being 
slaughtered. 

xvn. — ON  THE  POST  MORTEM  EXAMINA 
TION  OF  ANIMALS  which  frequently  shows 
the  existence  of  tubercles  in  the  lungs,  and 
liver  and  a  large  preponderauce  of  uric  acid  in 
the  fluids  of  even  healthy  animals,  this  being 
the  chief  cause  of  rheumatism  so  prevalent 
among  flesh  eaters.  •  ••±-  .**• 

xvm. — ON  TEMPERANCE,  as  it  has  been 
clearly  proved  by  experience  that  flesh  and 
the  condiments  used  to  disguise  its  flavor, 
tend  to  create  a  thirst  for  other  stimulants 
and  a  resort  to  intoxicating  liquors. 

From  i  to  xn  of  the  above  were  published 
by  the  Vegetarian  Society,  England,  in  -  1849 
and  now  after  nearly  50  years  we  find  them 
still  circulated  as  a  tract  by  that  Society.  We 
have  added  six  more  items  to  bring  the  sum 
mary  up  to  date. 

For  further  information  the  reader  is  re 
ferred  to 

FOOD,  HOME   AND  GARDEN 

A  monthly  Magazine  published  by  the 
Vegetarian  Society  of  America  at  1023  Foulk- 
rod  St.,  Sta.  F,  Philadelphia  at  50  cts.  a  year. 


OUR  POSTSCRIPT  is  published  every  three  months,  i  copy 
i  year  5  cts.  10  copies  i  year  25  cts.  100  copies  i  year  Ji.oo. 
Kxtra  copies  of  this  number  100,  25  cts.  5oo,$i.oo.  Friends 
are  all  invited  to  aid  the  circulation  by  enclosing  in  letters. 


NIVERSJTY 


YB  07470 


14  DAY  USE 

RETURN  TO  DESK  FROM  WHICH  BORROWED 

LOAN  DEPT. 

This  book  is  due  on  the  last  date  stamped  below,  or 

on  the  date  to  which  renewed. 
Renewed  books  are  subject  to  immediate  recall. 


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